Thicker Than Water
by amortentia1992
Summary: The summer before Hermione comes of age only to discover that her entire life has been a lie. Kidnapped at the age of two from her mother's arms and sent to live with a muggle family she was raised to be a progeny for the light. Of course, that is before Voldemort realizes she is his daughter and takes her back
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello and welcome to my new story. This is one I've been planning for some time and I chose to write it for NanoWriMo this year. I have quite a bit of it written already though the story isn't complete yet. As I'm editing this before posting it may take a bit of time between updates so you're patience is appreciated. I hope you enjoy it.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own harry Potter! Anything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling and I'm honored to be able to use her brilliant creations for my own plot.**

* * *

 **Prologue**

Lightning flashed through the night skies and the deafening boom of thunder followed swiftly. The pitter patter of the raindrops on the roof and the windowpanes of the manor was only broken by the softly sung lullaby over a wooden cradle. A woman stood over her stubborn but beautiful daughter as she put her down to sleep for the night. She waited alone with the baby for her husband to return home from whatever task he had taken off for that night. She watched through the window as the storm raged outside and passingly pondered how fitting it was to storm on Halloween.

The witch wasn't ignorant. She knew there was a war brewing and that her husband was the dark lord everyone was so afraid of but she wasn't a part of his group. She was kept blissfully unaware of his dealings and separate from his associates. It was almost like she had her head buried in the sand, she might know something was going on but without seeing anything she could easily convince herself that things were alright. In fact, Tom was nothing but a regular wizard inside the walls of their manor. He came home to kiss his wife and tuck in his daughter and spoke nothing of what went on outside. The woman had a hard time seeing him as anything other than the husband she loved, the boy she had known in school. She was only a second year when he graduated. However, she lost count of the times he complimented her drive for knowledge and ability to master skills above her grade level. He told her that she reminded him of himself at her age because she was much more advanced than her peers, as he had been. She had looked up to him and then years later, when she graduated at the top of her class, he was running in the same circles as she was and they reconnected. Two years after that her father and Tom came to an agreement and she was given to him in marriage. Tom hadn't wanted children right away too intent on gaining power and influence and dutifully she stood by him. It was fourteen years before they started trying, when Tom decided an heir would be beneficial after all. However, she had trouble conceiving.

The couple had given up hope, Tom moving on with his plans without worrying about an heir and his wife sadly resigned to the fact they wouldn't have children. It came as a great surprise when twenty-eight years into their marriage, fourteen years after starting to try, she conceived. As the witch looked back into the cradle at her sleeping daughter she smiled at the little miracle they had been blessed with. Content the little one was finally asleep the woman quietly left the nursey pulling the door shut behind her. She wasn't yet down the hallway when she heard the wind howling through the front foyer as the door was blasted open. Drawing her wand out of her sleeve she crept towards the front to see who was intruding.

Four large, powerful, dominating men stood in in the hall whispering quietly to one another as if their entrance hadn't already awoken the dead. The woman recognized these men and knew they were no friends.

"Get the child," one of them spoke quietly and although she didn't know who it was it was all the woman needed before her maternal instincts kicked in.

"You can't have her!" She exclaimed loudly her wavy hair crackling with energy and rage.

"Sage, see reason, and no harm will be done," one of the men spoke calmly hands out as though attempting to calm a rabid dog. His red hair was falling in his face.

"Arthur!" Another man with a scarred face and long, dirty, blond hair hissed, "Enough already. We're here for the child, stick to the mission."

"You will not take my daughter Alastair," Sage stated wildly brandishing her wand in a protective stance as she blocked the path to the hallway leading to the nursery.

"The girl is coming with us, one way or another!" He grumbled darkly.

"Sage, please, we don't want to hurt you, or the child, but you must know that we can't let a child stay to be influenced by him," Arthur Weasley tried again.

"Stupefy!" The witch shouted and shot the stunner at him knowing she was outnumbered but determined to fight for her Hermione. She missed her target as he sidestepped the red light and four separate hexes shot towards her simultaneously. Four against one Sage knew she didn't have stand a chance despite her strong shielding charm. She was fighting a losing battle. It wasn't long before Moody's incarcerous hit her and she was bound in ropes and then hit by Arthur's silencing spell. Still attempting to fight and sending off a nonverbal, wandless expelliarmus at the third wizard she was finally hit by a slicing hex which dropped her to the ground unable to fight further.

The wizards wasted no further time and helplessly she watched as the last wizard, her old professor walked down the hall to collect Hermione. He shot her a regretful look as he left her laying there and walked out the hole where a door once stood with her baby in his arms. The others followed him out.

There was no telling how long Sage laid there, slowly bleeding out before another figure walked through the door. She was unconscious by the time help arrived, and taken to St. Mungos. Her rescuer had not expected what he found, his duty was to inform the witch that her husband failed and had disappeared. None of his followers believed he was truly dead but for now he was gone, defeated by an infant. In the end he didn't have to relay the message. He only knew that one day, when the dark lord inevitably rose again, that there would be hell to pay. Those who had dared to take his child and harm his wife would face the ire of the most powerful dark wizard of the day. They had better hope that when the day came the dark lord's heir was still breathing.

* * *

 **Chapter One**

The late afternoon sun had started its downward journey and caused Hermione to leap up from beneath the cascading, green leafed branches of the willow tree she loved reading under. The park was only blocks away from her muggle residence but far enough that she was later than she should be. The Weasley's were due to collect her at nightfall and take her to the burrow where she would spend the last two weeks of summer with her friends and she should have already been home. Hurriedly she headed in that direction sweating from the stifling August heat yet soaking up every ounce of it gladly knowing that it wouldn't be long before she was bundled up against the cold winds in the rolling Scottish hills.

The adolescent witch was overcome by an ominous feeling that something was wrong when she approached her house. There was an odd energy she sensed that wasn't there normally, something heavy, dark and unwelcome. However, she was still weeks away from coming of age and in a muggle area so was unable to use magic leaving her unsure how to proceed. It was a Sunday afternoon, and her mum and dad were inside and it was clear that something bad was going on. They would want her to run, and considering the state of the wizarding world she would be wise to do so, but every fiber of her being told her she needed to help them. Not one to ignore her gut instincts Hermione rushed inside like any true Gryffindor would. Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw upon entering.

Her dad was sprawled out on the carpeted floor of the den, eyes glazed and mouth agape. He was unmoving but she didn't have time to process that he was gone because her mother was stuck against the wall hovering inches off ground and writhing in pain from the effects of the cruciatus curse. The unmistakable, hulking and tall form of Thorfinn Rowle stood inside her kitchen, recognizable to her from all of his bullying towards her in first year. He was now a known death eater, and he wasn't alone. Two others were behind him, one wizard she didn't know and another she couldn't identify as only his feet were visible. It was the former who was holding her mum under the curse.

"Stop!" she yelled the command abruptly and gave away her presence to the deatheaters inside her home. The wizard ceased the curse over her mother and faced her just as she was grabbed from behind.

"Why should I? They are only filthy muggles," the brute spat out.

"Mulicber," Rowle hissed in warning. "We got what we came for, leave the wretched thing alone. And let's get out of here before the Aurors show up!"

The brute shrugged but released her mother who fell in a heap on the floor. It was the last thing she saw before she was pulled into a side along aparation. When her captor and she reappeared in their new location he immediately dropped her. She fell and scrambled for her wand but was quickly disarmed.

"Sorry princess, can't have you getting into trouble with this now," Rowle smirked smugly from above her. Determined to fight him anyways she got to her feet and charged at him, causing the tall, muscular wizard to laugh in amusement.

While she did manage to knock him back a few paces that was all she accomplished before a stunner hit her in the back. She collapsed again this time dazed and unable to get back up.

"We were ordered not to hurt her," Rowle said to whomever had hit her with the spell.

"He didn't harm her," The one called Mulicber replied, he simply did what he had to in order to prevent her causing damage to herself. Take her to her room Thorfinn."

She was lifted up and carried to where she assumed would be the dungeons but was surprised to find him walking upstairs. She was laid gently onto a plush, downy mattress. Before the stunner wore off Rowle reached into his pocket and removed a potion vile which he proceeded to pour down her throat. In her current paralyzed state she couldn't spit it back out and soon the room began to fade.

"Sleep well, princess. Your questions will be answered when you awake." She heard the words as though she were underwater and he was speaking above the surface, barley able to process them her world went black.

* * *

Awaking from a dreamless sleep was gradual. She first became aware of the soft surface under her and the light weight of covers draped over her. Her eyelids drifted open and blinked several times from the bright light filling the room and eventually her thoughts caught up to her. Hermione shot straight up in bed faster than a speeding bullet when she recalled the events of the day before.

"Oh dear," a voice called to her left "I wouldn't sit up so quickly if I were you." Hermione turned her head. In a chair in the corner slowly rocking back and forth was Narcissa Malfoy. Feeling woozy from the sudden movement Hermione had no choice but to lay back down.

"Why am I here?" she croaked. Draco's mother rose from the chair and brought a glass of water to her lips, soothing the dryness and quenching her Hermione's thirst.

"I can't say. It's not my place to explain it to you child," the older witch explained gently. "You will find out in due time. For now, take it easy, dreamless sleep has some rather nasty side-effects and that dumb brute dumped the entire vile down your throat."

"Why are you being nice to me? Aren't a prisoner?"

"A prisoner? No. You are a guest."

"I was forcibly brought here against my will, which is the exact opposite of being a guest."

"Would you have come willingly?" Narcissa queried raising one delicate brow. Hermione remained silent, knowing the answer. "Exactly."

"If I wanted to go home right now would I be able to walk out that door unhindered?" It was the other witch's turn to not answer. "As I thought, I'm a prisoner. A guest would be free to leave."

"Well, choose to see it however you want. Personally I consider you a guest in my home and shall treat you as one, as will my family. Now, while you are waiting for answers, I've heard that you quite enjoy reading. I've brought you some books from the library to pass the time. I'll have some dinner sent up for you as well." Narcissa indicted the pile of books on the bedside stand before turning and leaving the room. Hermione didn't miss the unmistakable sound of a lock turning in the door.

"Yeah, because all guests get locked into their room," she muttered to herself. Escape at this point was futile, and frankly the young witch wanted answers as to why she was brought here. Her thoughts turned to her parents and tears fell from her eyes. She was certain her father was dead, having seen him herself. Her mother however, she had no idea. She had been apparated away before she could see what that horrible wizard did. More likely than not she was an orphan.

When crying and replaying the events leading up to this became too much she finally reached for the first book in the stack and opened the pages. Just as she began reading, there was a loud pop and a plate of food appeared on a tray before her. Sighing as she determined that she couldn't very well hold the book and the tray at the same time she closed the tome and set it to the side so she could eat.

Hermione's hunger outweighed her fear that the food might be laced with potions or poisons. She wondered how long she had been asleep after being force fed the dreamless sleep, the most potent of all the standard magical sleeping aides. However, without a clock in the room or a wand to cast the tempus charm Hermione had no way of knowing what time it was. It had to have been awhile at least because her stomach was rumbling, especially now that she could smell the food, and she had eaten lunch not long before she was snatched. In all honesty, based on the fact she wasn't located in a dungeon being tortured she doubted that these people would go through the effort of poisoning her.

She opened the silver lid which was engraved with the Malfoy family crest, much to her chagrin. On the platter was a hearty but not overwhelming serving of roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, broccoli and a small amount of treacle tart. Overcome by her need for food the witch began to eat slowly. The meal was delicious, as elf made food almost always was, full of rich flavor. Soon enough Hermione had consumed most of everything served and quietly set the tray aside.

"Who clears the dishes when I'm finished?" She mused aloud and jumped slightly when the tray disappeared with a loud pop. "Oh right. It's a magical household, Hermione Jean," she chided herself with a shrug. Putting it out of her mind she once again picked up the large tome and resumed her reading. She was about a quarter of the way through the book when her eyes began to droop. For a moment she felt panicked that they had indeed put something in her food after all. Then she remembered that Rowle had dosed her with the entire vile of dreamless sleep earlier. The average witch and wizard only needed a sip or two at most for the potion to work. Her sudden exhaustion was more likely than not the lingering traces of the potion in her system. Giving up hope of remaining alert she sighed heavily and shut the hardcover before placing it back on the stack. She turned on her side and closed her eyes falling into another deep and quiet slumber.

* * *

The next time she woke, Hermione assumed it was in the morning, it was to the popping sound of another tray of food being delivered. This time it contained eggs, toast, bacon and sausage links as well some hash browns, tea and pumpkin juice. It was far more than she would normally eat in the mornings so Hermione surprised herself by clearing her plate. She reasoned that she was not turning into a pig but rather she was low on energy due to her level of stress and the amount of sleeping she'd been having.

"Thank you for breakfast," she announced to no one in particular when she finished and watched as the tray vanished from sight. Hermione rose from the bed needing to move around before her muscles began to seize up. Glancing at the door which she saw Narcissa Malfoy leave through during her last visit she scowled knowing it was still locked. She didn't even need to check it to be certain. She turned her attention to the other two doors in the room. She opened one and realized it was a closet full of no less then several dozen of various shaded dress robes and pairs of shoes. Hermione closed the door as quickly as she opened it and looked into the other one. To her immeasurable relief it was an attached bathroom suite. Hermione wasted no time in entering, needing to relieve her bladder. In the middle of the room was an ornate pool that Hermione could only assume was supposed to be the bathtub. It was empty of water at the moment and her eyes widened as she noticed the quantity of facets. The tub itself rivaled the size of the one in the Hogwarts prefect's lavatory. She could only assume that much like that one there were different functions to the faucets to add a number of different relaxing elements to the water when it was full.

A part of her wanted to indulge until she remembered that she was imprisoned here. For all she knew this was all some elaborate way of breaking her, providing all of this luxury only to take it away later and throw her in a dungeon to rot. It was then that she noticed that the clothing she arrived in had been replaced by the white, satin nightgown she was currently wearing. Hermione frowned at that, her muggle jeans and jumper missing in action as she hadn't seen them in that closet. She let out a small growl of dismay sensing that she was never going to see them again. So consumed by the bathroom the witch did not hear the door to her room unlock nor the footsteps that crossed the room.

A small, clearing of a throat alerted her to the presence of another person. "Ah, I see you found the bathroom. Very good," Narcissa commented as Hermione whirled around to face her.

"Where are my clothes?" Hermione demanded immediately still sore about having them taken from her. "I wasn't wearing this before."

"Those disgusting muggle rags have been burned, as they should be, and you have a closet full of appropriate clothing," the older witch responded not intentionally being unkind but with a genuine repulsion for what Hermione arrived in. Hermione held back her sharp reply having already known they were gone. "I've come to inform you that you will be able to receive your answers this afternoon. I've summoned Lanny to assist you with getting ready. Should you ever need anything Lanny is yours to call upon."

"I don't need an elf to help me get dressed."

"Oh but my dear, I really think you do. In fact, I insist upon it." Hermione huffed in indignation at the Malfoy matriarch's snide remark and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'll return for you when it's time." The witch finished as the house elf, Lanny, appeared in the large bathroom. With a simple nod of the head the regal witch turned her back and left once more.

Lanny immediately took charge and before Hermione even had a chance to mutter to herself about the other's witches condensing attitude, she was stripped and thrown into a steaming bath. The water was scented with jasmine and was full of bubbles.

"Missy be relaxing now and letting Lanny clean up Missy's hair. Worry not I'll have you nice and proper soon." The female elf squeaked at her and set to work. The elf lathered shampoo into Hermione's locks followed by a deep conditioner with a vanilla aroma. Lanny worked magic when Hermione was done bathing by smoothing out the unruly curls and taming the frizz the witch put up with daily. Hermione was impressed with how her hair was shinny with smooth waves instead of her normal unkempt and bushy monstrosity.

Clearly the little house elf noticed Hermione pleasantly shocked expression because she put her hands on her hips and with a stern, disapproving glare scolded, "If Missy only took some time to look presentable her hair would not be such a mess." Hermione narrowed her eyes but honestly had to concede the point. She never was a girly girl, and didn't spend much time on her appearance preferring to get clean and spend the rest of her free time reading or studying. However, she didn't need to admit that to the creature.

"I'll have to take that under advisement," she snapped the reply. Lanny only snapped her fingers in reply and summoned a tray of cosmetics.

"Sits down," she commanded the witch and proceeded to pull her down onto the chair. It didn't take long for the make-up to be applied and while it was rather simplistic it was more than Hermione ever wore. In fact, Hermione didn't bother with the stuff, the only time she actually wore anything was for the Yule Ball in her fourth year. Glancing in the mirror she took in how defined her honey hued eyes became with a dash of mascara and liner. Her complexion improved with a brush of blush. A glittering but translucent gloss applied to her lips added the perfect amount of shine to complete the look. Seemingly satisfied Lanny directed her out of the bathroom and began digging through the massive closet.

Hermione was still wearing the fluffy robe the elf has summoned after she towel dried and was feeling rather awkward having somebody else choosing her clothes for her. However she didn't have much of a say as moments after she had the thought Lanny stood before her holding pale green dress robes. As far as Hermione could tell these were casual, made of simple materials and with a modest, comfortable fit to them. Of course, for a witch who never wore traditional wizarding robes, or dresses in general for that matter, it was far fancier than she was accustomed to.

"Why can't I wear pants?" she mumbled more to herself than to anyone else but Lanny replied anyway.

"Proper young witches do not make a habit of wearing pants, Missy. Only if they are keeping their own company, perhaps but never when in public or with an audience." Hermione rolled her eyes truly beginning to wonder what all of the trouble of molding her into the image of a pureblooded lady was about. Hermione wasn't a pureblood! She was a muggle-born and she was proud of her roots and her parents and her muggle habits. Curiosity and the need for answers was grating on nerves and she was become anxious and agitated to be let out of this room so she could receive them.

Lanny brought a full length mirror before Hermione and showed her the completed look. Hermione had to admit, Lanny had done a great job of transforming her as Hermione didn't recognize herself in the slightest. The door soon unlocked and opened once more to admit Narcissa.

"Lanny, I commend you efforts," the pureblood witch said to the elf, "Hermione you certainly do clean up quite nicely." Hermione tried not to take offense.

"Thank you, I guess," she replied quietly as she still gazed at her reflection.

"Lanny, If you would be kind enough to bring tea, Hermione and I have a few things to discuss before I take her to our lord," Narcissa instructed.

"Yes Mistress, Lanny will bring tea," the elf squeaked before disapparting away. Hermione was still wrapping her mind around the latter part of Narcissa's words when she repapered holding a tray of words. Their Lord, the older witch had said, meaning only one thing. Hermione was about to be brought before Voldemort.

"Thank you Lanny, you may go now," dismissed the lady of the manor. Pouring tea for both of them she inquired politely to Hermione, "how do you take your tea dear?"

"Oh, Black, 1 sugar please," Hermione indulged civilly as she accepted the cup.

"Now, my dear, I want to stress some things to you. I know that you might instinctively want to disregard me but for your own safety I must insist you be respectful." Hermione chuckled at that.

"I honestly have no idea what world you live in where you think I will ever respect your lord."

"Our Lord," Narcissa corrected. "I understand completely how difficult what I'm asking you to consider is. I struggle myself with a husband loyal as a dog to our lord who's views are far more depraved than mine. However, I value self-preservation and life. I do what I must to survive, to protect my son, and I suggest you do the same."

"Are you seriously trying to tell me you don't think that because your blood is pure that you are better than me and every other muggleborn out there?" Hermione scoffed. The older woman stared at her for several long moments.

"No," She finally admitted. "I do believe that being a pureblood and always being surrounded by magic makes my magic stronger and more innate. I have seen firsthand that wizard kind born to and raised with muggles are not magically adapt or confident. That doesn't mean that I think muggleborns should be eradicated. Yet I have my house inhabited by a brilliant, powerful and dark wizard who does believe that. Therefore, I do not act in a way to contradict our lord's views or outwardly show my own. I do what I must to prevail." Hermione contemplated that for a long while.

"I concede your point," she finally said acknowledging that anybody who was in Voldemort's path was in danger, follower, and supporter or not. "What did you need me to know?"

Narcissa sighed in relief. "First things first, remain quiet in our lord's presence unless you are directly spoken to. Secondly, for your own protection do not question, contradict or threaten him. Don't mention anything about Potter or worse, Dumbledore within his earshot, and finally, whatever you do never address him by his name. Call him always my lord, or whatever else he directs you to and nothing else."

"I suppose those terms are reasonably acceptable," Hermione acquiesced. It wasn't as if she wanted to address the dark lord as anything or even be near him, much less have cause to talk to him, so she could handle that.

"Good, good," Narcissa said as she rose up from her chair. "Very well then, my dear. If you are ready, our lord awaits." Hermione stood as well and mustered her courage.

"I'm as ready as I'll be," She replied swiftly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The uniquely colored haired witch led Hermione through a long, dimly lit corridor. The walls were lined with portraits on both sides, all obvious ancestors of the Malfoy line. When they reached a winding spiral staircase with steps of white marble Narcissa proceeded down. On the first floor they passed by several different rooms, many with doors closed. Hermione noticed a window - through one with the door open- filled with natural light and providing a view of a glorious garden. Hermione paused mid-step to admire its beauty and wondering at how much lighter it was down there compared to the wing where her room was located. However, after turning into another corridor, darkness once again greeted her. They reached a plain wooden doorway which was guarded by the massive form of none other than Thorfinn Rowle.

The wizard in question nodded once to Narcissa in silent acknowledgement and then smirked at her. "Did you sleep well Princess?"

Hermione glared at him but was cut off from retorting when Narcissa chided. "Would you please let our lord know we're here Thorfinn? He is expecting us."

"Yeah, yeah, sure," he grumbled but knocked on the door before opening it a crack. "My Lord, Narcissa and our young guest have arrived." Hermione heard a muffled reply before Rowle opened the door wider and beckoned them to enter. Narcissa led her inside what seemed to be a closet magically expanded and converted into a small study. If she didn't know better she might consider the space cozy. Voldemort was out of sight, obscured by a large wing-backed chair behind the mahogany desk which was turned away from the door. Hermione didn't need to see him to know what he looked like, Harry had explained in detail the events of that night in the graveyard.

"My Lord," Narcissa greeted, "I've brought our guest as you requested."

"So I see," The dark lord hissed without turning the chair around. "Very well, Narcissa, you are dismissed."

The witch shot a concerned look at Hermione and then a pointed look as if to remind her of her earlier warning. After a quick reassuring squeeze of her arm she turned and left the room. The door clicked shut after her exit and Hermione was officially alone in the presence of her worst enemy. She breathed in sharply as the chair began to turn and looked down at the floor as she was faced with Voldemort.

"Look at me, he ordered and hesitating she raised her eyes and took in his appearance. His balding head with smooth, snake-like skin, his red, slanted eyes and two holes for nostrils where a nose should be. He was more a snake then he was a man. The slow grin that crept across his face as their eyes met sent chills down her spine. "You may sit now," he said and Hermione rushed to obey. She opened her mouth to say thank you but recalled that she should always remain quiet unless spoken to.

"So, here you are, the brightest witch of her age, Potter's best friend. We finally meet," he began. "I'm sure you have many questions as to why you were brought here."

"Yes, My lord," she whispered. He laughed gleefully at that.

"Narcissa must have given you some pointers, as we both know you don't see me as your lord, yet. Tell me child, what do you want to know?"

"I'm having trouble understanding why I'm here. I mean, I get that I'm a known enemy and a target but I would assume that after being captured I'd be locked in the dungeons like any other prisoner," Hermione explained more than she asked.

"You didn't believe Narcissa when she told you that you were not a prisoner here?" Voldemort looked amused.

"No, I didn't. Let me tell you why, my lord," Hermione's voice dripped sarcasm. "I was not only taken from my home against my will, I was forced to watch my parents brutally tortured. I was disarmed, drugged, and locked inside a room. Narcissa may say all she likes that I am a guest here, but guests are not treated in such a manner. So, no, I'm entirely convinced that I'm not actually a guest here."

"Did you consider that despite being a guest there was a reason for such actions? Could you not have been locked in your room for your own protection? Was your wand perhaps taken from you for the safety of the residents? I'm sure you can rationalize that prisoners are not provided the comforts you have been afforded." Voldemort was playing devil's advocate now, and it was getting on Hermione's nerves. Crossing her arms over her chest she smiled a fake sweet smile and replied.

"Well, no I hadn't thought about those points, my lord. However, I did imagine that it wouldn't be so farfetched for death eaters to fuck with their prisoner's minds in order to break them. Surely you, and some of your less dull-brained followers, can deduce that throwing me in a cell and starving me, cursing me and whatever other depravities you reserve for the unfortunate wouldn't work. Someone intelligent and clever could easily come up with a ploy that would lure me into a false sense of security, allowed luxuries and comforts only to have them all ripped away later."

"Are you suggesting that you could be broken by having a bed, cloths and food taken away from you? Perhaps you wouldn't fare as well as you think you would in the dungeons after all," Voldemort countered.

"No my lord, you mistake me, let me try and explain it differently," Hermione went on. "I don't know what would break me, nobody has ever tried. However, I'd like to think I could hold my own if I were captured and left in the dark and the cold. I'm saying that I wouldn't put it past this whole set-up to be some cruel attempt at breaking me. Provide just enough luxuries and twist your lies just the right way until I begin to trust you and give tidbits of information, only to discover in the end that it was a trap. To know I was used and then disposed of." The dark lord cocked his head at her.

"You really are the brightest witch of your age!" He exclaimed. "I don't think I've ever met a single living person who could come up with such a brilliant tactic. I commend you. I assure you that your scenario couldn't possibly hold truth for you because none of my followers would be cunning enough to come up with such a plot. You remind me of myself."

Hermione shuddered at the thought that he was comparing himself to her in any way. "Oh, well of course I figured that out, already. Which leaves me back at square one. Why I really am here."

"Let me tell you a story Hermione," the dark lord said. "Do not interrupt with questions or other comments and just listen as the answer to your question will be revealed in the end. Do you think you can manage that?"

"Yes, my lord, I'll listen to your story," Hermione replied.

"In that case, let us begin. There was once a boy who was born with nothing raised in the squalor of an orphanage. Surviving only on the generosity of the matron and the donations given by rich aristocrats. Money given under the guise of being charitable when they really only wanted a place to keep the scum and vagabonds off the streets and out of sight. This boy had no family, no money, nothing of his own, but he was special. You see, the boy could make things happen by just thinking about them. It scared the other children and that served the boy just fine. One day, the boy has a visitor who tells him that there are other's just like him, a whole secret world of them. The boy was told he belonged there with other witches and wizards, and that there was a special school far away from the pit he lived in where he could learn all about magic."

"The boy, went to this school determined to learn all that he could. Only there he wasn't as special as he was in the orphanage. At school the other children had powers to. Moreover, most of the other children had grown up with magic the whole of their lives. This made the boy a target. Bullied and ridiculed because of his inexperience. This being unacceptable to the boy caused him to learn everything he could, as quickly as possible, to achieve more and do better than all of the others. He would earn their respect. As his grades outshone the others the bullying stopped. He proved he was an exceptional student despite having arrived at school knowing nothing."

"Eventually the boy discovered that he was special. You see, his mother was the last heir to an ancient pure blood house. While the Gaunt family was out casted and looked down upon by others in society they had one thing the others did not. They had lineage that linked all the way back to one of the four founders of the school. When the boy made this known to a few select people he suddenly became a leader. His ambition, resourcefulness and charisma had already brought him very close to the top, he was after all a natural leader. However, now he held the key that could open any door he wanted and was without a doubt the one in charge."

"The boy relished the power he held over his peers but he was annoyed that not one of them came even close to his level of knowledge or power. That is until in his sixth year at the school. There was a girl who arrived in her first year. Unlike the boy she was from one of those prestigious pureblood families and had grown up with magic her whole life. However, unlike the others in her year, and the rest of the goons that roamed the school, the girl was bright. She craved learning and independence. Born the youngest and only girl to a family of five she was determined to make her own way in the world. She refused to accept that her father would marry her off to cater to the interests of the family and that she was only good for bearing heirs and keeping house. The girl reminded the boy much of himself and so, he went out of his way to show her both kindness and respect."

"The boy graduated and went to make his way in the world, influencing the heirs to powerful houses, and studying the dark arts. The girl was still young, attending school and it wasn't until years later that she graduated and reconnected with the boy through the same social circles. Reacquainted the boy was pleased that the girl had grown quite powerful and intelligent in her own right. She was almost an equal to the boy, certainly the closest to his level than anyone else. So, the boy married the girl, cementing himself to a powerful family and having a person he could connect with on an intelligent level."

"But the girl wasn't a seduced by the dark arts as the boy was. She was a pure heart with a good soul much unlike the boy who was already tainted by darkness. She wasn't disillusioned to the idiocy inside the ministry nor did she agree with the bureaucracy. However, she sought to change the world through changing the perception of how society viewed women, education and equality. Unable to receive a job because of her status as an heiress and a wife she spent her time doing charity work, attending social functions with the boy her husband, publishing her own magazine dedicated giving a voice to the disadvantaged and fighting against injustice. The girl even drafted legislation she one day hoped to see passed. The boy indulged his wife because he was proud of her work. However, he knew that she would get nowhere this way and he sought to make a difference by overtaking the ministry and restructuring the views of society. His work being of a much darker nature the boy kept it separate from his wife. Outside of the home he worked diligently on his plan for world dominance, but inside the home he was a loving and supportive husband. It was quite some time before the couple agreed that they were ready for children. Then they discovered that because they had waited so long there were problems and conception would be unlikely."

"They resigned themselves to the fact that they wouldn't have children. The boy shifted his plans so that he wouldn't have need of an heir and the girl worked to provide for squib born children who were discarded and unwanted by their families. She figured that if this was the only way to have children in her life that it was better than nothing. Then one day, many years later the impossible happened. The girl was pregnant and the couple was expecting a child. The girl was ecstatic with joy and the boy was pleased as well, thinking finally that their luck had changed. However there were complications in the labor, and while both mother and daughter were delivered safely, it would be impossible for the girl to conceive again. Despite being saddened by the hopelessness for future children the couple was content and happy with their daughter. She was their little princess. She was doted upon, given everything she needed or could ever want. Her first outburst of accidental magic was at the age of eleven months a sign of strong innate magical ability."

"Then there was a night where the boy had business to attend to outside the home and left the girl and their baby alone. He had every intention of being successful and returning home. Unbeknownst to him there was a plot that destroyed everything the boy ever held dear. That night his home was invaded, his wife attacked and injured so severely that she was kept in a magically induced coma for over a year. His child was taken from her bed and put into the hands of two oblivaited muggles to raise as their own. It was the same night the boy was defeated by an infant, his body destroyed. However, the boy had planned for every possibility and insured that he would return one day. And one day he did. Only to discover from his most loyal the events that transpired and broke his family apart. When the boy discovered the betrayal he vowed that no matter the costs he would get his vengeance and he would take back that which was his."

"I'm sure by now you've figured out that the boy in the story is me, but do you know who the girl is, who the daughter is?" Voldemort asked the question as he finished the tale. Hermione's face drained of all color and her blood ran cold.

"You can't possibly think that I am your daughter," she replied forgetting that she was never supposed to question the thing sitting in front of her. She realized too late her mistake. Anger flashed through the dark lord's eyes, but just as quickly it was gone.

"No, Hermione. I don't think you are my daughter. I know you are. I can prove it to you," he replied solemnly. Hermione was staring at the snake like wizard in stunned silence. Her mind was screaming that it couldn't be true. The man had to be insane. Well, he was already insane, but this was beyond all reason.

"I don't believe it," she whispered quietly. Voldemort simply put his wand to his unblemished risk and hissed something in what could only be Parseltongue and then set back and waited for something. Mere minutes later there was a knock on the door.

"Enter Severus," The dark lord hissed. The door opened and Hermione's despised potion's professor crossed the threshold and entered the room. He glanced at her once, quickly before addressing Voldemort.

"You summoned me, My Lord?"

"Yes, Severus. Did you bring the potion I requested?"

"I have it, yes."

"Explain how it works, and then proceed," commanded Voldemort.

"Yes, My Lord," Severus replied in his normal bored drawl. "This potion is a rare and dark brew used to determine the biological paternity of a child. It works by mixing with three drops of blood from the child and an incantation and will reveal with complete accuracy the names of their parents." Hermione blanched. "Miss. Granger, if you would please hold out your hand?" She hesitated but after seeing the narrow glare of the dark lord extended her hand towards Snape.

The dark haired wizard pulled out a dagger and a potion vile from his robes. Using the sharp blade to slice her finger open he uncorked the vile and squeezed three drops of blood into the potion. He muttered an incantation that was too low and quiet for Hermione to hear properly. When he was finished he set the vile down on the desk and all three of them watched as the liquid boiled and bubbled before erupting from the vile.

Instead of splattering against the ceiling as Hermione thought it would, the liquid suspended in midair. Then slowly it began to shift, forming golden glowing letters before their eyes. In a moment they letters began to make sense and before long the words read out.

Name: Hermione Riddle

Blood Status: Pureblood

Father: Tom Marvelo Riddle (Heir of Slytherin)

Mother: Sage Eleanora Riddle nee Selwyn

Date of Birth: September 19, 1979

The words glowed bright before they vanished from the air. Hermione blinked in rapid recession.

"There, you see Hermione. You are in fact my daughter." Voldemort directed to her.

Before she could think better of it Hermione blurted "I thought that Tom Riddle was a half-blood. How can I be pureblooded?" From behind her chair Snape made a choked gasp as if expecting his master to brandish his wand and kill her for such a statement. Instead, through clenched teeth the dark lord answered her insolent question.

"Seeing as the revelation was a shock for you, I will let that remark pass young lady. You will never again mention anything about the name Tom Riddle, or refer to his blood status again. Is that clear?"

"Yes my lord," Hermione mumbled.

"To answer your question though," Voldemort went on, "Despite my unfortunate birth to a dirty, repulsive muggle father, my blood is purer than anyone else you know. My blood once ran in the veins of Salazar Slytherin. Your blood once ran through Salazar Slytherin. I disowned my muggle father and completed a ritual to remove all traces of his blood from me and now it is only the blood of my ancestor's."

"I've never heard of such a ritual," Hermione stated factually, "but Professor Snape did say the potion didn't lie."

"I doubt you would have heard of such a potion given you haven't studied much, if any of the dark arts." Voldemort replied irritably. "But you're correct the potion doesn't lie."

"Now that the truth has been made clear what is going to happen to me?"

"Nothing is going to happen to you, Hermione. You are going to live here, attend school like any other magical child, and be treated with all the respect your status provides you. You will refer to me as Father, and you will obey what tell you."

"Yes, Father," Hermione replied dutifully. "Am I to be locked away until school resumes?" Voldemort sighed.

"No. You will have free reign of the house and the gardens. However, your wand will not be returned to you until you are in school and you are not permitted to leave the grounds without an approved escort. Furthermore, when on breaks for holidays you will return here and, at least until you can be trusted, under strict supervision.

"I understand Father," Hermione replied.

"Do you? Let me make one thing abundantly clear to you daughter," Voldemort hissed. "Should you attempt to escape, to run, to seek help from those imbeciles you readily put your trust in, the consequences will be most dire. The outcome for your friends would be quite unfortunate."

"Your message is clear, Father. I understand," Hermione repeated.

"Good. You are dismissed then. Severus will see you back to your room. I expect you in the dining room for dinner." Before he had finished speaking Voldemort had turned the chair around once more so that the back was facing her again. Unsure if she was supposed to reply to his dismissal or not Hermione glanced back at her professor and known order of the phoenix member. He shook his head slightly and ushered her out of the room swiftly following behind her. Rowle was no longer outside standing guard so the hallway was empty.

When they reached the end of the passage and he was certain they would not be overheard Snape spoke quietly.

"Miss. Granger, quickly explain to me how you were caught," He demanded coldly. Hermione's eyes watered with unshed tears.

"I was outside at the park. I was supposed to be leaving for the burrow that evening and returned home to find three death eaters in my house. Rowle, someone he called Mulicber and a third one I didn't see the face of. Mulicber was torturing my mum, my dad was already dead. Rowle grabbed me and I was brought here. I don't know if my mum is alive or dead."

"She is alive," Severus confirmed. "She was found after you were reported missing, and brought to St. Mungo's for treatment before being relocated."

"Relocated?"

"Fortunately the order was able to intervene for her protection, but I am sorry to say that they were not fast enough. Jean Granger was obliviated and has no memory of ever having had a daughter." Hermione's face crumbled at the news and she began openly sobbing much to the discomfort of the reclusive wizard.

"It is for the best I suppose. I'm glad she is alive at least and safe from future capture," she eventually said when she calmed down.

"Miss. Granger, I doubt that you will be allowed to contact your friends before school resumes. I will do what I can to get a message to them," Severus offered. The kind gesture was out of character for him.

"Thank you sir. If you could just tell them that I'm okay and that they shouldn't attempt to do anything foolish. Tell them I still value their friendship above all else," Hermione relayed. Severus nodded once sharply as they reached the door to her room.

"Take care, miss. Granger," he cautioned.

"I will, Professor," she promised. The door began to close so she called after him. "Oh professor, my name is Hermione Riddle. It seems I was never actually a Granger and if there is no one left to tie me to that name it will only be hurtful to hear it."

"Of course. Practical as always. Good day, Miss. Riddle," He said and departed his footsteps echoing on the marble floor. Hermione sank onto her bed and allowed the overwhelming shock to finally sink in. She cried quietly for the loss of her old life. Roger and Jean Granger would always hold the place in her heart as her true parents, the ones who raised her. Eventually she dried her tears and resigned herself to her current predicament. If she was stuck here now she was damned well going to make the best of it. She would not allow them to reduce her to tears. If she had to be Voldemort's daughter than everybody had better believe she was going to be the best daughter of a dark lord that ever was.

* * *

Hermione was walking in the gardens hours later. Dinner was going to be served soon and although she knew she should get ready as it was formal, she couldn't bring herself to leave. The gravel paths and sweet floral fragrance and breathtaking colors gave her the peace to put out of mind the revelations she had received that day. For a little while she didn't have to think about anything but could merely be present in the moment.

She turned a corner and stumbled as she tripped on a larger than average stone. Putting her hands out to brace her fall she felt two hands upon her waist steadying her. She looked up in surprise and met the dark piercing gaze of a man she recognized. The face of a man who starred in some of her recent nightmares. Standing before her, saving her from falling was the wizard who had cursed her only a couple of months prior in the Department of Mysteries. She gasped and jerked backwards.

Antonin Dolohov raised his hands in a signal of surrender. "Miss. Riddle," he said in a soft spoken deeply accented voice. Hermione couldn't reply before he passed her on the path and disappeared around the bend she had just come from. She was frozen for a moment before she shook herself out of her stupor and continued back towards the house.

As she reentered the manor she was greeted by Draco Malfoy seated on the chaise in the drawing room. He stood as she entered and Hermione braced herself for insults or taunts.

"Granger," the young blond nodded at her. To her surprise he didn't say anything beyond that. Of course the use of her surname was like a stab in the heart and she closed her eyes briefly.

"Malfoy," she replied. "I'd appreciate if you didn't call me that."

"Sorry," The boy muttered. "I forgot for a moment. Not going to lie its weird having you here."

"Yeah, well it is surreal for me to, Malfoy," she spat and moved to stomp past him.

"No wait," he called. "I didn't mean it like that Riddle. The thing is that ever since he, err, your father, made this his headquarters, none of my friends have come over. The dark lord doesn't exactly like having teenagers running around and most of his followers still want to keep their children as far away from him as possible. I've really been the only one our age around. Now you're here, it's strange."

Hermione raised her eyebrow, "So it isn't at all weird to you that it's me, the mudblood in your house?"

"You shouldn't call yourself that," he snapped. "Especially when it's not true. Of course, it is odd for me to have the girl I've looked down on end up being the dark lord's daughter. I've accepted that though and I hope we can somehow make amends. We do have to live in the same house."

"Fine," Hermione acquiesced. "A truce then."

"A truce," he murmured and reached out his hand. "Maybe friends also?"

"Don't push it Malfoy. I may be willing to forgive you but I've not forgotten and I'm not disillusioned to how you think of my friends."

"No, I don't Imagine that you are," he retorted. "I won't hide how I feel about Potter and Weasley, but if I were you I'd be accepting all the friends I could get."

"Point taken," Hermione conceded. "I am rather lacking of those here." She stuck out her hand and shook his hand.

"Friends then?" He asked.

"Friends," Hermione confirmed. "I suppose you can call me Hermione."

"Only fair then if you call me Draco."

"Okay Draco. Now, if you would excuse me, I hear that dinner at Malfoy manor requires a more elegant dress than this one." Draco looked at her appearance and nodded once.

"You look nice, Hermione, however those wizarding robes are a little too casual for a formal dinner."

"I wouldn't want to embarrass my father by being under dressed," Hermione dripped sarcastically and smirked at him. He returned the look and motioned for her to go.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I really ought to be writing updates for my other stories... but I'm enjoying all of your feedback on this, so a little treat for all of you.**

* * *

The two remaining weeks found Hermione falling into a steady pattern. As Professor Snape had predicted she was forbidden the use of the Malfoy owlery to write her friends. Aside from that she was left to her own devices. She was supervised of course, she wasn't stupid, but her chaperones didn't make it obvious that they were watching her. Certainly, they didn't impede upon her in any way. Mostly Hermione felt that anybody in the house would report back to the dark lord on her behavior. They wouldn't confront her directly.

Therefore, Hermione made sure that her behavior wouldn't give the spies inside the manor cause to report her. She developed a routine to keep herself sane and in check, starting with waking up and drawing herself a hot bath before calling on Lanny the house elf to help her dress. Both Narcissa and the creature herself were adamant that Hermione could use the assistance of the elf to look the part of a proper pureblood. While Hermione wasn't keen on the idea she knew when to pick her battles. Breakfast was almost always served in her room and she ate alone while reading a book. Draco had explained to her that before Lucius had been locked away in Azkaban the family would eat in the morning room, however, now his mother preferred to lay in and enjoy solitude and the rest of the household followed suit.

Mid-morning usually found her in her father's study for an audience. They didn't talk much, he supplied her with texts on the dark arts and instructed her to study them while he worked on his own projects. She knew he planned on eventually testing her practical skills on the subject. Hermione would cross that bridge when she got there, for now she could deal with only reading about it. When she was released from her appointment with the dark lord it was time for lunch which she ate in the sitting room with Draco and Narcissa. On occasion they trio would be joined by Bellatrix or another one of the death eaters and on the days they were present Hermione kept conversation at a minimum. She didn't mind the company of Draco or his mother, but the others were a different story.

Around four o'clock she took tea with Narcissa and the older witch instructed her on pureblood customs, traditions and appropriate conduct. Most young witches learned this from a mother before Hogwarts but Hermione was being given the crash course. While she appreciated on some level that the information was useful for her to survive living with her father and his followers, the young witch found the lessons dull and a bit insulting. After all, despite being raised by her muggle parents it wasn't as though she had no sense of manners.

Following tea Draco escorted her for a turn around the gardens and they would chat about things like school and other safe topics of conversations. On more than one occasion he apologized for his treatment of her in school. At first, Hermione thought his making amends was because of finding out who she really was. However, she eventually realized that deep down Draco wasn't as bad as he acted. It was a facade he put on because it was expected of him and because he was afraid to stand against his father.

Hermione would spend the early evening in her room contemplating. Sometimes she would think of ways to escape her present situation, other times she would revisit her memories of summers spent at the Burrow or of her childhood. In these moments Hermione valued the solitude because often she would cry. Even if she didn't those moments were deeply personal and she didn't wish to be disturbed. Eventually, she would break out of her thoughts and get ready for dinner. That required changing her day gown for more formal dress robes and adornments. Dinner in Malfoy manner was always formal and attended by her father and the other followers that resided in the manner.

She was amused by how old school some of the traditions in this society were. The way meals progressed were much like they were for muggles in the Victorian era. The wizarding world progressed much slower than the muggle world, but then she had known that from day one. The ladies would break away from the dining table and depart for the drawing room for small talk while then men would usually discuss business. Hermione usually broke away early and spent the reminder of the evening holed up in the library. Some nights Draco would sneak in with her as well and they would read in companionable silence.

Two weeks passed quickly and now Hermione was dressing for the last dinner before she and Draco boarded the Hogwarts express for school. Tonight however she was informed that they were breaking from the typical routine. Instead of using the formal dining room, they were going to have a farewell gala for her and Draco. In attendance would be quite literally every death eater and many unmarked sympathizers to Voldemort's cause. This was doubling as Hermione's official introduction to society as the dark lord's daughter.

Therefore, this occasion called for way more than what she would typically dine in. To her dismay an owl had arrived for her that afternoon with a parcel. It seemed her father had decided to provide her with a gown he thought suitable for the occasion. It was a tea length, black lace dress with a sweetheart neckline and long sleeves. Knowing she needed to dress for the night Hermione stared in disdain at the fabric hanging over her closet when a knock sounded on her door. Turning she saw Narcissa standing in the doorway.

"Hello Hermione," sounded the lilting voice of the lady of the manor. "I thought you might like some help getting ready."

"Hello Narcissa," Hermione returned. "I'd love your help. Thank you."

"You know, I always wanted a daughter. Sadly fate seemed to think that one child was all we needed."

"One day Draco will marry and you will have a daughter in law," Hermione supplied comfortingly to the older witch.

"If only that were true. Oh, He'll do his duty by marrying an heiress and providing the next Malfoy heir, but I doubt his relationship with his future wife will extend beyond that. He'll hardly be the first in his line to live a separate life from his bride, but it does mean I won't have a strong bond with my future daughter in law. Certainly not a deep enough one to have a motherly bond with her." Hermione remained quiet sensing the truth in those words. Draco didn't draw attention to it, wasn't flamboyant, but there were signs that his interests did not lay in chasing other witches. In fact, witches didn't seem to strike his fancy at all.

"Perhaps a granddaughter will be the next Malfoy heir," she said. "You could dote all of your attention on her."

"Perhaps," Narcissa allowed with a smile as she helped Hermione step into her dress. "This fits you like a glove." It was true. The gown hugged Hermione's frame displaying her curves. The neckline was just low enough so as to show a tease of cleavage which was only accented more when Narcissa wrapped a diamond choker around her neck. The outfit was completed with a pair of silver heels.

Since Lanny had done her hair in a French twist that morning, there was nothing more that needed to be done. "I suppose this just leaves the ball then," Hermione said as she turned away from the mirror.

"Your escort will meet you at the stairs," Narcissa confirmed.

"I thought Draco was escorting me."

"No, your father forbade it. He had another choice in mind, but I wasn't privy to the name. I will see you downstairs my dear." Narcissa left then and Hermione had nothing to do but wait the few minutes before she was collected.

The gala had already begun once Narcissa departed, but like all proper young ladies, until she was presented to the public by her father she wasn't allowed to be in attendance. It was a coming out event so she would be making a grand entrance and was stuck in her room waiting and wondering who her escort was. Soon enough Hermione recognized her cue as cheering and applause erupted from down below. She exited her room and walked down the corridor to the staircase. She nearly ran back to her room when she saw who was waiting for her. The only thing that stopped her was the wrath she would face from her father if she didn't show. Her escort seemed to read her thoughts because he held out his hand to her.

"I wouldn't risk embarrassing him if I were you. We don't have time for dramatics now, you're about to be introduced," Dolohov stated. Having no other choice Hermione placed her hand in his. The wizard quickly let it go to loop their arms instead.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, our esteemed host is pleased to introduce his lovely daughter Hermione Riddle," a man announced below. Before she could react she was being led down the staircase and into the view of the assembled guests applauding for her. Hermione held her head up high, despite her nerves. As she took the last step off the staircase her eyes met the red rimmed eyes of her father. He nodded once at her and then went back to the conversation he was engaged in. Dolohov let go of her hand and bowed before her formally.

"It was my pleasure to escort you tonight, Miss Riddle," he declared before dispersing into the crowd. There was something weird about the whole exchange. This was the death eater who cursed her not three months before, leaving her writhing in agony for days and with an ugly purple scar as a permanent reminder. Now, he was saving her from falling and escorting her to a party as though none of it happened.

Draco approached her and assisted her as the rush of purebloods came forth to introduce themselves. Hermione pursed her lips in disguised disdain as suddenly all of those who looked down on her now groveled for her attention. One old man even had the audacity to ask her if she was courting anyone.

"Grandfather, it has only been a couple weeks since she found out she was a pureblood. You know as well as I do that a proper lady does not court anyone until after their coming out ball." Draco replied swiftly. "Hermione please allow me to introduce my Mother's father, Cygnes Black."

"Charmed, I'm sure," she replied cordially.

"Yes, but then she was raised with muggles. Who's to say she hasn't already given herself away? We all know she spends all her time around those blood traitors," Cygnes spat.

"Excuse me," Hermione hissed. "I'm not sure what you are implying but let me alleviate you of any doubts. No boy, aside from Victor Krum in my fourth year, has ever looked at me for anything other than friendship. As for living with muggles, well the other kids in the neighborhood stayed as far away from the strange girl at the end of the block."

"Cygnes," The icy voice sounded from behind her and she knew immediately that Voldemort was angry. "What is it that you've said to upset my daughter exactly?"

"Nothing, my lord," Cygnes shied away from him. "I meant no offense."

"He insinuated that Hermione is impure from her time spent with those who do not keep up our traditions," Draco supplied helpfully. "I apologize on behalf of my grandfather, my lord. He is old and half mad at times."

"Draco, perhaps you should walk your grandfather back to his cottage before he gets tired," Interjected Narcissa before the dark lord could retaliate. Draco hurriedly ushered the aging wizard away before he could protest.

Satisfied that the problem was dealt with Voldemort glided away without another word. Hermione was exceedingly grateful that she was done needing to greet people. She wasn't looking forward to needing to defend her honor against their unjust, racist and sexist assumptions.

"Walk with me to the table, Hermione. You should eat something." Hermione smiled in relief and followed Narcissa happily.

Hermione was grateful that the rest of the evening passed without incident. After eating a little bit she was expected to dance with several gentlemen. Draco took her out a couple of times, Snape led her as a proxy for the father daughter dance, and there were a couple of others whom she didn't get to know beyond idle chit-chat. As she was growing fatigued from all the twirling around and about to call it a night she was approached once more by Dolohov.

"Might I have the honor of a dance, Miss. Riddle?" He asked in his deep Russian accent. Hermione was taken aback, confused as to why the wizard responsible for her scars was asking her to dance. However, she didn't see an excuse to refuse him and nodded slightly before allowing him to lead her to the dance floor. When his fingers touched her waist tingles shot down her side.

The dark, quiet wizard didn't speak to her during the waltz and after the music stopped he bowed his head. "Thank you for the dance," he expressed.

"You're welcome," she breathed before he could leave again without her saying something. She was left standing there dazed. It turned out it was the last dance of the evening and soon after all of the guests left for their own homes, or rooms if their current residence was the manor. Hermione made her way to her room exhausted.

Despite the late hour and being tired the young witch needed to unwind before she would get any sleep. Carefully disrobing and hanging the dress up, she padded over to the attached bathroom and ran the taps for a bath. Adding lavender bath salts and unscented bubbles she climbed in to the hot water and leaned back allowing the warmth to ease the tension in her muscles.

Her eyelids began to drop as the sweet scent of lavender filled the room, and soon they were too heavy to fight staying open. Deciding to rest them for only a few minutes she closed them and concentrated on breathing in and out. The next thing she knew she was being shaken awake by Lanny, water sloshing around.

"Missy 'Mione, You musts not be sleepings in the bath! Gets you to bed now." The elf demanded firmly. Hermione groaned but obeyed, disbelieving that she had actually fallen asleep in the water.

"Thank you for waking me Lanny," she murmured. "How did you know to check on me though?"

"Lanny was checking to see if all of Missy's things were packed for Hogwarts when she noticed missy wasn't in her bed. Missy shouldn't take baths so late at night, she could drown."

"I know, it was stupid. I'll go to bed now, I promise." The house elf wasn't satisfied until she watched Hermione climb into the bed and pull the sheets over her body. When Hermione's head hit the pillow she was out like a light, only then did Lanny leave.

* * *

The morning dawned all too soon. Sunlight streaming in through the window and the rabid pounding of a fist upon her door forced Hermione from her slumber. Groggily rubbing her eyes she sat up and leaned against the pillows.

"Come in," she called. Draco poked his head around the door. "What time is it Draco?"

"It's a little early. Half past seven but I've just been informed that breakfast will be served in the morning room today. It seems my lord wishes to see us off in some capacity. I thought you might want some time to get dressed."

"Thank you Draco," Hermione yawned. "What time I am expected downstairs."

"Eight sharp," the blond replied.

"Figures," she muttered. "Fine, I'll be there." Draco closed the door again and sighing, she rose from the bed. Lanny had already packed her trunk thoroughly with everything a proper lady should require at Hogwarts. Her school books, uniforms, casual dress robes, several formal dress robes and jewelry and of course shoes. Because of this the closet was considerably less full than when she arrived.

Hermione selected a simple grey dress suit set paired with a darker charcoal colored outer robe. It was as casual as she could get with what she had available to her. She secretly plotted to rectify the fact that she had no pants as soon as possible.

She braided her hair in a plait down her back and coated her eyelids with mascara before considering the look complete. Then she headed downstairs.

She was the last to arrive, even her father was already seated at the head of the table. "Am I late?" She asked when everybody turned their heads to look at her.

"No dear," Narcissa chimed. "Perfectly on time. Come have a seat here next to me." Hermione strode over to the table which was covered in a variety of different dishes to choose from and pulled out the chair. She noticed that nobody had filled their plates yet so waited with her hands folded in her lap.

"Hermione," her father drew out her name, "I wanted to discuss some things with you before you leave for school." He began to put food on his plate so she took the opportunity to as well.

"Yes father," she sighed.

"Firstly, I know that I can't stop you from seeing your friends," he spat that last word out in disgust, "however, I do expect you to make time to socialize with those more worthy of your time. I will not allow you to spend your free time plotting with your precious Potter on how to escape me."

"I understood that I wasn't able to escape and that should I try it would end badly for my loved ones," Hermione stated factually. "I wasn't intending on plotting."

"Be that as it may, the other children in Slytherin house, the children of my followers will attempt to befriend you. You will embrace these relationships. How often you interact with them will be reported back to me."

"Yes father," Hermione groaned.

"Secondly," He continued, "That old fool running the school is going to attempt to manipulate you into providing him information about me. You know nothing, is that understood?"

"Considering I do in fact know nothing, it's crystal clear."

"Excellent. I have a gift for you." The last statement startled Hermione into a stupor. Had she heard him correctly?

"A gift?" She inquired.

"I believe that Draco here mentioned a particular feline you were quite attached to. I was unable to locate the famous ginger cat you loved so much, I assume he ran away when you were taken. However, I believe in the importance of having a familiar." As he finished his sentence Lanny appeared suddenly holding a bundle in her arms. The house elf promptly brought it over to her.

Whatever it was wriggled in Lanny's arms attempting to get loose. "For you missy," Lanny said and shoved the animal at her. Hermione accepted it and gently scooped it into her arms. It was a kitten, all black as night fur and yellow eyes. Hermione met its gaze headlong and smiled at it. While she was sad about the fact that Crookshanks was lost to her she wasn't going to take that out on this creature.

The cat blinked once before nuzzling its head into Hermione's neck and rubbing it scent all over her. Hermione cooed softly and scratched behind its ears inspiring a purr to erupt from the beast.

"Ah, see she is bonding with you already," Voldemort commented dryly. He clearly didn't care one way or another and Hermione wasn't stupid as to believe he was at all sympathetic to her loss of Crooks, but she had to admit that he didn't have to buy her a new familiar either.

"Thank you father," she sucked up. "She is beautiful. I shall name her Hecate."

"Whatever you wish," he dismissed. "Now I don't have time to waste away by lingering here. I'll see you here for the holidays Hermione. Don't disappoint me." The snake like wizard didn't wait for a reply before exiting the room.

"Hurry children and finish your food," Narcissa fussed. "We must leave for Platform 9 ¾ soon."

"I'm finished mother," Draco replied. Hermione quickly finished her toast and bacon so they could depart.

Narcissa shrank both of their trunks so they could fit in their pockets before instructing them both to grab onto one of her arms. The familiar pull of side along aparation overwhelmed Hermione and within seconds the three were standing in the empty ally outside King's Cross Station. Narcissa led them through the crowd as though she owned the place and walked straight through the brick column that separated Platform 9 ¾ from the rest of the trains.

"Hermione dear, now that we are here I can return this to you for school," Narcissa said handing Hermione her wand. Hermione eagerly accepted the wand and for the first time in two weeks felt complete. "Also, your father instructed me to give you this." Dangling from her fingertips was a velvet drawstring purse.

Once opened it revealed the contents to be quite a few galleons. It was more than her parents would have exchanged from muggle money for her and they supplied her with more than enough to get through the year at Hogwarts. "What is this for?" she wondered aloud.

"Why it's your allowance dear," Narcissa replied. "You will not receive more until after Christmas, so spend it wisely." Hermione looked up sharply in amazement.

"More than this? I'm not sure I could spend all of this in a year."

"You would be surprised," interjected Draco. "Remember that now you are pureblood you are expected to maintain a certain image. Believe me about the company your father intends for you to keep, those girls will encourage you to do all sorts of owl delivery orders."

"Still," Hermione muttered. "It's more than enough." Narcissa had remained quiet during the exchange and taken the time to unshrink their trunks. Hermione pocketed the small purse of coins and retrieved Hecate's cage from the cement floor.

Casting her first charm in months the witch levitated her trunk behind her to give the mother and son a private moment to say goodbye. The porter relieved her of her trunk to go in storage and as she was about to board the Hogwarts Express Draco appeared behind her.

"Are you nervous to see your friends Hermione," he asked.

"More than you can know. However, I have to face them at some point. They probably think I'm dead since I've been missing. Who knows what Dumbledore told them," Hermione explained.

"Well, if they give you trouble, you should know you are welcome in my compartment anytime. Good luck," Draco winked at her before heading off in the opposite direction. Taking a deep breath Hermione turned left and walked to the end of car to the compartment she typically shared with Ron and Harry. It was empty still because as usual the Weasley's must be running late.

She didn't have to wait long before the door was wretched open and Harry stood in the threshold. "Hermione!" He exclaimed. "Merlin, are you okay?"

Hecate had curled onto her lap when Hermione freed her from the confines of her carrier, and raised her head reproachfully at the sudden disturbance from her nap.

"Hello Harry," Hermione whispered. "I'm fine."

"How can you possibly be fine?" He bit out. "You're his daughter. Voldemort's offspring."

"He hasn't done anything to me. Other than sending his followers to retrieve me. It was death eaters who killed my father and tortured my mum. Look, I'm not happy about this situation either Harry, but I can't do anything about it."

"Maybe Dumbledore…" he began but Hermione shook her head quickly.

"Harry would you just shut up for one minute and give me a hug? I've missed you."

"I've missed you too 'Mione. I've been so worried," He said as he wrapped his arms around her. "We all have."

Ron arrived at that moment and entered the compartment. "Bloody Hell 'Mione! Thank Merlin you're here. I thought you might not be returning to school when we heard…" The ginger blurted as he also embraced his friend. Hermione returned the hug warmly.

"I don't think I'm ever going to be able to get used to the idea of you being Voldemort's kid," Harry whined.

"I'm still wrapping my head around it to," Hermione said. "You have to know my loyalty to you has never wavered. I hold no warm and fuzzy feelings for him and want him gone just as much as you do."

"We never doubted that," Harry responded. "I want to help get you out of this situation."

"I honestly don't think you can Harry," she smiled sadly. "I mean he has people everywhere. I'm being watched all of the time and even if we did manage an escape plan he isn't above using me get you to react badly. Promise me you'll not do anything rash. Let me deal with this in my own way."

Reluctantly the two wizards agreed by nodding their heads. Hermione didn't believe them for a second but didn't get to comment because Ron suddenly burst out "You got a new cat? What about your bloody squashed faced menace?"

The witch had tears welling in her eyes, at the mention of Crooks. "I don't know. He wasn't at the house when my belongings were brought over and they assumed he ran away. I only received Hecate this morning."

"Crooks didn't run away!" Ron exclaimed. "When we found out you were missing we took him home with us for safekeeping. I think Ginny brought him along with her."

"Oh! That is wonderful news," Hermione cheered. "I was worried something awful befell him. But we aren't allowed more than one pet, and I've got Hecate now. Crooks will have to stay with Ginny now." Of course it wasn't easy for her to give up her beloved friend and companion, but while the orange fur ball may hate Ron he loved all the rest of the Weasley clan. Hermione couldn't risk sending Hecate back to the manor when the kitten had already bonded with her and she knew Crooks would be well looked after.

"I'm sure she would be willing to hold onto him. At least that way you can still see him."

"Wouldn't he be angry with you for abandoning him?" Harry asked.

"Perhaps," Hermione shrugged, "though he loves it at the burrow because he is free to roam. He would have to stay in my room at the manor… Besides as Ron said, I can still see him."

"If you say so," Harry replied doubtfully. "Who gave you the new cat anyway?"

"Umm, actually it was my father," she answered.

"Voldemort gave you a pet?" Ron asked in bewilderment.

"Apparently," the witch sighed. "He claims that he protects and provides for what is his. I'm sure that whatever he does isn't for my benefit but rather his image. Though I wouldn't dare risk his anger by refusing something he willing gives."

"Strange. I wouldn't have expected that," Ron retorted.

"Yeah," Harry chipped in, "It doesn't exactly fit his personality type. We thought he would try and use you to gain information on us."

"I'm not certain why he hasn't," Hermione confessed. "I spent days thinking it was some cruel joke and that I would suddenly be killed or tortured like any other prisoner. Unfortunately I saw the proof firsthand. Say what you want about him but Professor Snape doesn't mess up a potion."

"How did you find out exactly," the both wondered aloud.

"I'm not familiar with the potion used, it was clearly a dark potion we wouldn't learn about in school. It required three drops of my blood and if I had not felt the blade pierce my skin and watch it added to the brew I still might not believe it. Then there was some incantation and the potion combusted and formed words declaring my birth."

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered. "So there is no denying it then."

"How are you taking this so well?" Harry demanded the question directed at both of his best friends.

"I'm not!" Ron shouted. "I'm just aware that it isn't Hermione's fault so we shouldn't blow up at her."

"Nobody said it was her fault," the raven haired wizard defended. "I'm only surprised that you're not overreacting and the she isn't buried in a book researching this mysterious potion and looking for any way out of this."

"There is no way out of it for me Harry," Hermione groaned. "He is my father, my blood. I may not like it but I can't change my DNA. I'm trying to make the best out of a bad situation."

"How the hell can you make the best out of this situation?" Harry burst out angrily. Hermione glared at him.

"Because I have no other choice!" She yelled at him. "Excuse me, I think I should go sit with people who won't judge me." She stormed out of the compartment and down the aisle into the next car. She found Draco in his compartment and he waved her in when she knocked.

"Didn't expect to see you so soon," He teased.

"Yeah, me either," she mumbled. "It went better than I expected but Harry's pissed at me because I told him I accepted my fate and wanted to make the best I could out of it."

"Potter's an idiot."

"He doesn't get what it it's like to live with him… Voldemort may be his worst enemy for him he's a distant foe he will one day have to face. While you and I see him every day, have to interact with him, are subject to his mood swings…"

"As I said, Potter is an idiot," Draco repeated. "Look, you should stay here for the rest of the ride. Theo and Blaise went off in search of the trolley and should be back soon, but they won't mind if you join us."

"I'm sure they would be more accommodating then Harry is right now," Hermione whispered. "So yes, I'll stay."

. "So yes, I'll stay."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Last Update of 2018! Hope you all have a Happy New Year and enjoy this chapter. See you all in 2019, and as always thank you for your kind words of support on my story.**

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

The rest of the train ride passed uneventfully. Hermione was nervous to meet the other Slytherin's Draco considered friends and when they returned she was taken aback by how accepting they were of her. Theodore Nott had taken her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers.

"Miss. Riddle," He murmured quietly. "I know we don't know each other very well, but we are interested in some of the same subjects. Maybe we can rectify that and study together this year."

"Certainly Mr. Nott," Hermione assured. "Please do call me Hermione though. I'm still not quite used to my surname." She smiled tightly. Blasie Zabini bowed his head before her. Unlike Theo who only ever ignored her presence, he had insulted and jinxed her on several occasions.

"I owe you an apology, Miss… err Hermione," he said stiffly. "I wish you to know that my actions were never personal but what was expected of me by my mother, who abhors muggleborns." Hermione was beginning to see a small pattern playing out here. Draco feared his father, Theo didn't want it inspire fury in his and Blaise was expected to share the same beliefs as his mother. She didn't think any of them liked what they were required to do but understood that it was dangerous for them to take a stand against it.

"I understand Blaise," she expressed. "Apology accepted."

"If she can forgive me, she can forgive anything you've ever done to her," Draco commented to Blaise.

"Well that settles it then, we are all acquainted and on our way to becoming friends. Though I wonder why you are even in our compartment Hermione," Blaise inquired.

"Oh, I had an argument with my friends. I needed some space and Draco told me earlier I was welcome."

"How was your summer?" Theo asked his blond friend quietly. Hermione didn't miss the subtle glance in her direction.

"It was alright," Draco replied. "Hermione was actually a huge help in the last couple of weeks." It was frustrating or Hermione that the Slytherin's never came out and directly said what they meant, everything was always left for interpretation and while the other Slytherin's seemed to understand it took her some effort to read between the lines. Hermione inferred that Theo's question was a show of concern for Draco living conditions, and Draco's response confirmed that it was still a dismal place to reside despite her arrival. His home had been invaded by a powerful and insane dark wizard who was followed by equally as mad or even worse people both inside and outside of the manor. Some like his crazed aunt Bellatrix resided in the house as well and found cruel ways to torment him.

Hermione had to respect that Draco wasn't comfortable sharing those details aloud and made no mention of it. "I don't think I'd be as sane as I am right now if it weren't for Draco's help and company," she added to the group. The quartet passed the rest of the ride in idle chit-chat and Hermione played with Hecate on her lap. When the train finally docked at Hogsmede Station, they had already changed into their school uniforms and quickly departed for the carriages. They rode up the castle together and parted ways once they reached the Great hall. Hermione was still a Gryffindor and had to face her housemates and her friends.

Harry and Ron were already present so she joined them in their usual spot. "Where did you disappear to for the rest of the train ride?" Harry pouted.

"You won't like my answer so I'm not going to say," Hermione replied tersely still upset with the boy.

"It was Malfoy wasn't it?" He bit out. Hermione sighed irritably. Couldn't he leave well enough alone?

"What? Why would she sit with Malfoy?" Ron interjected.

"Actually, yes. I sat with Draco and some of his friends," Hermione revealed.

"Why the hell would you do that? He's a good for nothing death eater!" Ron whisper yelled. Harry shook his head solemnly in disappointment.

"You know you two, sometimes you are obtusely dense. Has it ever occurred to you that maybe your assumptions are unjust? Draco isn't a bad person." Hermione scolded her two friends tired of their unbiased hatred for all things Slytherin.

"Hermione," Ron protested, "How can you say that? Look at how's he treated you all these years. How many times has he called you a mudblood?"

"Last year you complained as much about him as we did," Harry reminded her.

"Draco has apologized for his actions," Hermione began.

"Yeah because you're a pureblood now," Harry spat. He was only saved from her scathing remark because the first years arrived at that moment and the hall quieted down for their sorting. After welcoming five new Gryffindor's, three new Slytherins four new Ravenclaw's and three new Hufflepuff's the feast began and after briefly talking to Ginny, Neville, Dean and Seamus Hermione returned to ranting at Harry.

"You simply do not understand what it is like for him Harry James Potter! Or me for the matter, you don't get what it's like living in that house. For you Voldemort is this abstract idea that you abhor and wish to vanquish. Sure, you've faced him before but you have never had to live in the same house. Eat at the same table. Share the same blood. So until you know those things maybe you should reserve your judgement."

"I'm sure it's awful living with that monster," Harry shot back. "That doesn't change the fact that Malfoy's a death eater and that you shouldn't be hanging around with him."

"It changes everything Harry. All of it. Listen to what I'm saying your thickheaded moron. Those of us surrounded by the most evil wizard in exist and his foul, horrible supporters do what we must to survive. For some that means blending in. For others it means doing as we are told."

"I hear what you're saying Hermione, but you aren't hearing me. Just because he is your father and you had to live with him these past weeks doesn't mean you should associate with his people here in school."

"Clearly you don't understand my point. I don't have a choice, if I want to keep my friends as safe as possible I have to obey my father, and he says I have to associate with Draco and others. Frankly, they have been more supportive of my situation than you have. I still think you are being unreasonable in your judgement of them."

"Then we are at an impasse," Harry stated.

"So we are," Hermione replied. "I wish I could make you understand." Their disagreement was cut off by the arrival of a fourth year student holding a note for Hermione.

"Headmaster Dumbledore asked me to give this to you," she explained.

"Thanks Freya," Hermione expressed as she took the parchment and skimmed it. "Professor Dumbledore wishes to speak with me after the feast." She said for Harry and Ron's benefit. The headmaster chose the opportunity to rise and give is start of term speech signaling the dinner was coming to an end. Soon students would be sent off to bed and prefects would distribute common room passwords.

"I'm sure he only wants to make sure you are alright, given everything." Ron reassured. Hermione smiled gratefully at the red head. However, she wasn't so sure. Unlike Harry who trusted Dumbledore with every fiber of his being, Hermione always thought there was something off about the wizard.

He showed warmth and fatherly affection for Harry but his eyes almost never twinkled at her but rather seemed suspicious as if constantly looking for something in her. That feeling of his being aloof towards her hadn't changed for the better as she observed him now. In fact, all through dinner she had felt his piercing eyes boring into her. So as the students slowly assembled and headed to their respective dorms Hermione walked up the stairs to the gargoyle that guarded the headmaster's tower.

"Fizzing Whizzbees," she told the stone figure and it turned to reveal a secret staircase that led up to Dumbledore's offices.

"Ah, Miss Granger, or should I say Riddle? Have a seat may I offer you a lemon drop?" Hermione knew that he only offered the candy as a guise for dosing her with veritaserum.

Smiling sweetly she declined his offer. "No thank you professor."

"I wanted to see you to inquire after your wellbeing. I'm sure it was traumatic being taken from your home and provided with the knowledge that you were in fact adopted."

"No, what was traumatizing was coming home from the park to find death eaters in home torturing my mother with my father already dead on the floor and then being forcibly removed from the premises. My own home, which was supposed to have been warded by the order but clearly wasn't."

"Now Hermione," Dumbledore began, "You know that the order did everything we could to protect your home but that the statute of secrecy has strict guidelines on what we can and cannot do in the presence of muggles."

"With all due respect sir, that is a load of hogwash. Don't sell me you're excuses. As far as finding out I was adopted, that isn't quite true. I wasn't adopted, I was kidnapped and given to muggles that were obliviated to make them believe I was really their child. The real shocker was being told this by none other than the dark lord and then finding out that my biological father was the same wizard responsible for countless offenses.

"I'm certain that whatever story Tom came up with is lacking the whole truth," Dumbledore responded ignoring her outburst.

"Oh I agree, much like the details you spin to all of us as well. Take a look in the mirror professor."

"What do you know?" The white haired elder demanded in a no nonsense tone. Hermione pursed her lips and met his glare. "Legilimens!" he shouted. The moment that Hermione felt the poke of Dumbledore entering her mind she threw up her walls to keep him out. This only seemed to infuriate him more.

"Do you really think my father would go through the trouble of kidnapping me and sending me back into your clutches without first teaching me how to fortify my mind against your attacks?"

"You will tell me what you know," Dumbledore intoned flatly, rage evident in his blue eyes.

"I know nothing," Hermione said in all honesty. She didn't know anything. She had many, many theories but none that were proven as yet. "I expected you called me here to help me in some way not to pry information from me."

"I must have answers. If you don't willingly tell them to me then I have to get them in other ways by any means necessary," Dumbledore explained with an unapologetic shrug.

"Well, I won't eat your truth serum laced candies, I've been taught occlumency and I can't tell you something I don't know."

"I can't have you around Harry," the old wizard suddenly declared. "You can't be aware of any order dealings and I can't have you influencing Harry to become dark."

"How could I influence Harry to become dark? The order I can understand, I wouldn't want to risk reveling secrets to my father either, but I'm not a dark witch... My loyalty to the light hasn't once wavered."

"You are the dark lord's daughter," Dumbledore stated coldly as if that settled matters. Hermione realized that in his mind it did. While she was a muggleborn she was no threat so long as she remained within the supervision of the order. Anybody associated with Harry were watched to ensure her friend's safety. However now that she was a pureblood and worse having been around dark wizards for any length of time she was automatically tainted.

"So I'm guilty by association," she snapped tersely.

"The sins of the father," her headmaster said. "You will have to be given your own dorm room and only restricted access to the Gryffindor common room. Your access to Harry will be severely limited."

"I can't wait to hear what Harry has to say about this," Hermione laughed out.

"He doesn't get a choice," the wizard informed icily. "Now your head of house is waiting outside and she will escort you to a private dorm." Hermione scoffed audibly but didn't plead her case further. She didn't trust this man, and she was now certain of one thing. He had never been ignorant, nor blind, to her true paternity. How involved he was, she would figure out. She turned her back on the manipulative old fool, as she so often heard Voldemort refer to him as, and walked out of his office. McGonagall was waiting for her at the bottom of the spiral steps.

"Oh my dear child," The Scottish witch breathed when Hermione came into her line of view. "I'm glad to see you here in one piece."

"Thanks Professor," Hermione murmured quietly. "It's a relief to be back"

"I hope you know I'm truly sorry about all of this. I tried to assure Professor Dumbledore that you couldn't possibly be any danger to Mr. Potter but once that man makes up his mind there is no changing it."

"I appreciate your vote of confidence Professor," Hermione replied. "Actually I'm surprised to learn that this was his intention no matter how that meeting went. I thought he had come to the decision because I refused to allow him to pry information out of me and blocked him went he tried to take it by force. He did say that if I wouldn't tell him what I know, which is nothing, that I couldn't be trusted."

"He did what?" The older witch cried in outrage. "Oh I'll be having a few words with him!"

"No professor, please don't," Hermione objected. "I learned occlumency over the summer so there was no harm done."

"He needs to understand how unreasonable an act like that is. Besides the fact that it's illegal!" McGonagall exclaimed.

"Please let sleeping dogs lie. I'd rather not face him any more than I have to. He doesn't trust me and the feeling is mutual at this point. I'm not a bad person but in his eyes I might as well be."

"Ach, of course you're not a bad person. Very well, child if you wish it I won't say anything." It was clear that the aging witch didn't agree with Hermione's choice but wasn't going to comment further on it. "I'd best show you to your dorm now."

Hermione followed after her Professor down the corridor and up several staircases to the seventh floor. Instead of heading in the direction of the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy her professor turned in the other direction towards a portrait of a child.

The girl was dancing in a meadow of vibrantly colored wildflowers but stopped at their approach. An inquisitive expression crossed her features on her otherwise innocent face.

"Pocket full of Posies," Professor McGonagall directed authoritatively. The girl curtsied with a smile and swung open the door to admit them to the room.

"This should have everything you need. A bedroom and a bathroom, a small common area as well as an eating space. All you need to do is call for Winky to order a meal."

"Am I not permitted to eat my meals in the great hall?" Hermione asked hurriedly.

"Not at all, you are more than welcome to eat with the rest of the students," her professor assured. "However I must warn you that with the headmaster's prohibitions there will be strategies in place to separate you from Harry as much as possible including at meals. I ensured you had a place for yourself if it became too much."

"That was a kind gesture Professor," the younger witch appreciated. "I don't know if the headmaster realizes that Harry is his own person and makes his own decisions regarding his friends."

"Be that as it may, the staff already have specific instructions. For instance, in classes you share you will be separated from Mr. Potter, your free periods do not align, and I've been forbidden to allow you access to Gryffindor tower. Furthermore, while you are not prohibited guests to your dorm any visitors must have prior authorization. There is already a list of those who will not be approved."

"Let me guess, Harry and Ron," Hermione muttered darkly.

"Indeed," her professor sighed. "Make me a list of those you would like to be able to have over and bring it to me tomorrow. I'll do what I can to push it through."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione acknowledged gratefully at what her head of house was doing for her. "But what I want is to have the support of my friends."

"I know that child, just as I know it's unjust what is being done to you now."

"You mean being a prisoner while I'm in school?" Hermione spat out bitterly.

"I'm afraid you're not too far off there." Professor McGonagall said shaking her head. "Take my advice Hermione and eat here in the morning. You are going to find that your day will be rough, rest while you can."

"I'll take that under advisement," Hermione mumbled. With one last sympathetic glance her professor turned her back and retreated down the corridor. Hermione watched her vanish from view before closing the door and assessing her gilded cage.

It was a welcoming space of a relatively decent size. The portrait opened to the common room, much like with Gryffindor Tower. The castle already knowing her house allegiance was decorated warmly in scarlet and gold hues. The living area was covered in soft, fuzzy, crimson carpeting and had a black leather couch and chair with side tables in front of a cozy fireplace. There was also a small study desk in a corner for Hermione to work.

While she knew Harry and Ron rarely set foot in the library she assumed she would still have access but was glad to have an area to study in peace as well. To the left the carpet faded into tile revealing a small kitchenette. Cupboards, counters, and a small stove with a tea kettle as well as a table and chair for her to eat at made up the little area. To the right there was two doors which upon opening Hermione revealed one to be a bathroom. It was just big enough to house a sink and mirror, a duel functioning bathtub and shower stall and a toilet, but it was hers alone. The other door was her bedroom.

It was decorated in the same fashion as her old dorm. A standard four poster bed with Gryffindor themed drapes, a small dresser and a nightstand. At the foot of her bed she found her trunk neatly placed already unpacked save for her books. Hecate had also been delivered and had taken the liberty to curl up on top of the comforter for a nap.

Taking a page out of her pet's book, and without bothering to undress out of her school robes, Hermione laid down herself. Then she finally allowed herself to give way to her tears. Hecate had mewled softly at the sudden disturbance and stood on all fours. Sensing her owner's sorrow she walked slowly up to Hermione's face and began rubbing her face in her hair. The feline was sweet and affectionate and gazed into the witch' eyes.

"This isn't how it was supposed to be girl," Hermione sobbed. "It was supposed to be us in the Gryffindor Common room with a lot of people and other animals for you to meet. But here we are alone and isolated. It's just you and I, now." Hecate as if in understanding meowed once and then curled into a ball against Hermione's chest. That was how the par of them fell asleep.

* * *

Hermione awoke suddenly to the sound of something rustling outside of her door. Opening her eyes she was briefly disarmed by her surroundings before she recollected the events of the past night. Already being dressed for the day seeing as she never changed out of her uniform the witch sighed and opened the door to see what was going on.

A scrawny, wobbly eared and wide-eyed house elf paced back and forth pausing occasional to hit itself on the head.

"Oh please stop, don't hurt yourself," Hermione cried in genuine compassion.

"Young miss is awake. Winky was starting to think she might have to jump on miss to wake her up in time," The elf squeaked out.

"Winky what time is it exactly?" Hermione asked worried.

"It's half passed seven miss. Winky brought breakfast and a timetable for miss," Winky explained nodding towards the kitchen table.

"Thank you Winky," Hermione expressed.

"Oh, Winky be pleased to help. If miss be needing anything else just call for Winky!" The house elf exclaimed gleefully.

"I will," Hermione promised as she sat at the table. Quickly the witch stacked the scrambled eggs on top of her toast and ate it with one piece of bacon. The other piece she fed to Hecate who was begging beneath her chair. Pocketing the blueberry muffin for later the witch rushed around packing her messenger bag with her school books, quills, parchment, ink and other supplies.

She had ten minutes before her double charms lesson and raced out the door as fast as her feet could carry her. She made it in the nick of time setting her bag down at the nearest empty seat. It happened to be next to Draco and Hermione caught the gesture from Harry for her to take the empty spot next to Ron.

Apparently he didn't know yet that they were being kept apart. Unable to do anything as Professor Flitwick began his lecture, she mutely shook her head at the raven haired boy. Hermione soon realized that today's class was a review from the material covered last year, which wasn't challenging in the least for her. It seemed Draco was equally bored because he turned to her and asked, "How was your first night back."

"Horrible," Hermione whispered. "It's a long story, can we talk later?"

"Sure," The blond agreed readily concerned about his friend being so upset. "After classes in the front entryway?"

"Fine," Hermione agreed. "We can take a walk." At that moment the Professor's eyes landed on the pair.

"Miss. Granger," Professor Flitwick called. "Would you please tell me what the incantation for the charm to turn an object into stone?"

"Certainly Professor," Hermione began. "The incantation is duro."

"Very good, very good. Mr. Malfoy, perhaps you could explain to the class when this charm is most often used."

"While the duro charm is useful in a variety of situations it is most commonly recited as a prank. Such as turning your friend's pumpkin pasty into stone as they take a bite."

"Correct. It is good to know that you can both pay attention to me and carry on a private conversation at the same time," Flitwick chided gently. Properly chastened the duo remained quiet for the remainder of the class.

It was when Hermione was exiting that she was bombarded by Harry and Ron who chased after her and pulled her into an empty alcove.

"Hermione what the hell?" Harry asked. "Where have you been? You never came up to the common room last night."

"Yeah and you weren't at breakfast either," Ron supplied helpfully.

"Then you refused to sit next to us in Charms," Harry added.

"I don't know how to start," Hermione tried to explain. "Apparently the meeting with Professor Dumbledore last night was to inform me that I'm not to be trusted around you Harry."

"What?" Harry scoffed in disbelief.

"I might taint you with my darkness," Hermione sneered. "The reason I didn't return to the tower was because I've been assigned a private dorm. I wasn't at breakfast because I overslept and a house elf brought me a plate. I didn't sit next to you because our professors have been ordered to separate us in our classes. All of this in order to keep me away from you, Harry. Ron, I can't be close to you because of your proximity to Harry."

"This is Ridiculous!" Harry exclaimed furiously. "Surely Dumbledore knows you are still loyal. That you would never hurt me?"

"It doesn't matter to him," Hermione said dully. "My father being who he is automatically makes me untrustworthy."

"Like hell it does," Ron yelled.

"Exactly," Harry stated. "I might not support the people you choose to spend some of your time with but I don't think that means you are like them."

"We are going to be late for class," Hermione sighed helplessly. She was glad her friends were upset by this news but couldn't do anything to change it.

"I don't bloody well care about class," Harry groaned. "This is more important!"

"You are going to get me in trouble," Hermione protested. Harry stopped at her confession. "I'm not supposed to be around you, and if I get expelled then I have to go back to him."

"Surely you want to fight this stupid rule," Ron shot.

"Of course I do!" Hermione cried.

"So what do we do then? Can't we just come up to your dorm?" harry wondered in frustration.

"No, any visitors must be approved first. You are both on the no go list," Hermione answered. "Right now we just have to wait. They can't keep us apart all of the time so we can find a way around this then."

"I don't accept this 'Mione," her friend muttered. "I will stop it if I have to talk to Dumbledore myself." Ron and Harry both hugged her quickly before stomping off towards Defense against the dark arts. Hermione ambled behind at a distance.

"You're late!" the sharp, drawling tone of one Severus Snape called as they entered the classroom. "Ten points from Gryffindor and you two can sit in the front." Harry and Ron looked horrified by that prospect but moved to the front. Hermione sat alone in the back.

Professor Snape stood rigid in the front of the room as he began his introduction. He was certain to criticize their previous education in the subject and quick to ensure that he would not be lenient nor lazy in his approach to teaching them how to defend themselves against the dark arts. Hermione listened quietly and turned to the specified page in the textbook when lessons began.

"Miss. Riddle," Snape addressed. Hermione had not raised her hand to answer his question of the advantages of non-verbal spell casting. Naturally she knew the answer but she wasn't in a mood to participate.

"Non-verbal spells provide your opponent with no indication of what you will cast and therefore leave them at a disadvantage to prepare for the counter curse."

"Correct," Snape replied tersely. "It amazes me that you didn't wave your hand in the air eager to answer that when you so precisely know the answer. Five points to Gryffindor." The class gasped outwardly. The snarky, ill-liked professor never awarded Gryffindor points, much less Hermione who annoyed him.

"Thank you sir," she replied.

"See me after class, Miss. Riddle," her professor ordered before launching back into lecture. "Partner up with a member from a different house to begin dueling."

Draco sauntered back to her desk. "What do you say, Riddle?" He smirked. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Fine, Malfoy," she replied playing into his game. Hermione was the first to be on the offensive. She non-verbally cast a series of jinxes and hexes at him. Draco was a worthy opponent blocking or dodging most of her attempts. However he made a fatal miscalculation and missed her jelly legs jinx shot out in rapid succession to the expelliarmus he had blocked. He fell to the ground and before he could cast the counter Hermione summoned her signature yellow birds before silently casting oppugno and caused them to attack Malfoy. While he was distracted by the canaries she successfully disarmed him.

Despite their truce, Draco was competitive so when it was his turn to attack he was determined to do her one better. Hermione struggled to keep up with him and was eventually disarmed from sheer exhaustion at keeping her shield up.

"Class dismissed," Professor Snape bellowed from the front of the classroom. The students quickly scrambled out of the class leaving Hermione alone. She had a free period before her lunch so she wasn't troubled by staying after.

"You wished to speak with me Professor," She inquired.

"Obviously," Snape drawled. "While I otherwise would relish the chance to break up the troublesome trio I am flabbergasted at the reason for your ban on all things Potter."

"Oh," Hermione gasped. She hadn't expected this.

"I don't support Dumbledore in this however I do think that this does give you the opportunity to follow your father's wishes. With less time spent around Potter and Weasley you have more to associate with those the dark lord instructed you to. I assure you my house has been made aware of your status and will prove to be allies for you. However, I wanted to recommend certain individuals I feel it would behoove you to seek out."

"Of course Professor. I wasn't sure where I would begin on that business myself and am grateful for you advice." Hermione had always respected the mysterious professor. While others despised him openly she remained silent. She didn't forget that he had been the source of many insecurities and wounds to her pride and confidence, but some part of her knew it wasn't as malicious as it seemed.

A few minutes later found Hermione walking towards the office of her Head of House. Thanks to Professor Snape and Draco she had a list of students she wished to allow access to her dorm.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Here it is, Hope you all enjoy. Thanks again for all of your kind words and support. I'm so glad to hear that you like my story.**

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

"This is a lot of Slytherin individual's Hermione," Professor McGonagall stressed as she skimmed over the list Hermione provided. Her head of house had refused to call her by her last name, unlike the other professors, and treated her as though nothing had changed over the summer holidays.

Hermione nodded as she mentally reviewed the list of students she would extend invitations to host in her private dorm. The list was fairly short, consisting of Draco, Blaise, Theo, Luna, Neville, Ginny, Daphne Greengrass, Pansy Parkinson, and Tracy Davis. Six of those names were Slytherin's to the one Ravenclaw and two Gryffindor's. "My father instructed me to interact more with other purebloods. Seeing as Harry and Ron won't have the majority of my time any longer that doesn't leave me with many other choices. Professor Snape provided me some names of individuals who would understand and accept my circumstances, and help me," She explained.

"Well, I'm sure that I can approve most of these names though I'm not certain on Miss. Weasley."

"Ginny adopted Crookshanks and I would still like to see my old familiar if possible. I know Ginny's close to Harry, but I wouldn't put that in jeopardy by using her. She is as of now one of my only female friends, Professor."

"I'll see what I can do," Minerva sighed.

"Thank you Professor," Hermione replied graciously and left the small office. It was lunch time and Hermione wasn't sure if she was up to facing the Great Hall. However, she figured it was best to find out what lengths Dumbledore would go to separate her from her friends at meals, so she headed down to the Great Hall.

When she got there she found Harry and Ron noticeably absent, although she was early. As none of her other friends had arrived yet she took a seat slightly down the length of the Gryffindor table from her usual spot. Dumbledore was present for lunch that day and was perched at the head table scrutinizing her. She wouldn't blatantly appear to defy his orders, though she wasn't going to allow him to push her into isolation either.

The spot she picked was usually occupied by fifth years and soon Ginny arrived with two of her friends.

"Hermione?" The red-head witch prodded. "Why are you sitting here instead of where you usually do?"

"I have to," Hermione purposefully obscured the reason. "I meant to catch you last night, to thank you for taking care of Crookshanks for me."

"Of course Hermione. Though Ron told me you have a new familiar?" Ginny didn't seem to approve.

"Not by choice Gin," Hermione sighed. "None of this is by choice. I was told that Crookshanks was missing, that someone looked for him to return him and couldn't find him. They assumed he ran off when I was taken. He… my biological father that is, already had a replacement waiting when he broke the news."

"Of course, you couldn't refuse a gift from he-who-must-not-be-named," her friend replied. "It must be awful."

"Not so awful as to her treatment here," a furious Harry Potter announced with his sudden arrival as he plopped down onto the bench next to Hermione.

"Harry, what are you doing?" the brunette questioned in a warning tone at the same time Ginny demanded an explanation.

"I'm making a statement, and I mean that Hermione is being ostracized because of her birth parents and other things she has no control over. She isn't allowed to hang out with me, or with Ron because she could taint us with her supposed darkness."

"That is bloody ludicrous," Ginny retorted indignantly.

"My sentiments as well," Harry replied.

"Hermione, what are you doing about this?" The younger witch wanted to know.

"I am not doing anything, yet." Hermione said. "I don't know how to fight this at the moment and have been made abundantly aware of the lengths they will go to keep me away from Harry. Whom should not be sitting here right now."

"I don't care," Harry told her firmly. At that moment a slightly awed third year walked up to him.

"Ummm, Harry Potter, Dumbledore asked me to tell you he wishes to see you as soon as possible."

"Thanks Collin," Harry nodded. "I'm a bit hungry at the moment so I'll catch him when I finish Lunch."

"No, I think he wants to see you sooner. He is waiting for you outside the great hall now," Collin protested.

"Well then he can keep on waiting." Their bantering went back and forth a little more before the third year eventually gave up.

"Harry, just go. You're making the situation worse by refusing," Hermione uttered.

"No, I won't let him think that this is acceptable to me." Moments later the bearded wizard himself approached them.

"Great," Hermione muttered. Ginny and her friends who had been quiet through the whole exchange now paled considerably.

"Harry my boy," Dumbledore began, "I press upon you the urgency of my request to speak with you. If you would kindly walk with me." The elder narrowed his piercing blue gaze on Hermione as if she were a bug he wanted to squash. She glared straight back in return.

"I chose to sit here, professor," Harry attempted to explain. "When I noticed Hermione wasn't in her usual spot. She's been acting out of sorts all day." Harry certainly had the guts of a Gryffindor Hermione mused silently.

"I'm sure Miss. Riddle is fine," Dumbledore breezed by the disguised accusation. He stressed her surname to draw attention to it in a not so hidden attempt to remind Harry she was involved with the enemies.

Harry looked to Hermione at a loss of how to proceed. She frowned, unable to provide a solution, and motioned for him to go. Eventually he rose from the bench and walked from the hall with the headmaster.

"What the hell was all that about?" Ginny found her voice again.

"That was a maneuver to keep Harry away from me," Hermione muttered.

"There is absolutely no justification for this," The fierce witch spat contemptuously.

"No reason?" The question was voiced by a new person, not involved in the conversation with the group but who clearly eavesdropped in on it. "She is the spawn of a monster. She should be kept as far away from Harry as possible!" Lavender Brown exclaimed.

"Hey now!" Several voices protested, both from those around Hermione and the sixth years who still counted as friends.

"Fuck off, Lav Lav," Ginny spewed furiously. The dimwitted chit called herself by the stupid nickname as a desperate cry for attention.

"Yeah," Romilda Vain agreed, "What would you know of it?" Romilda and Hermione had never really spoken. She was a year below Hermione and was friendly with Ginny but it still surprised Hermione that the witch would defend her at all. Lavender sneered at Hermione and the others but sensed she wasn't going to find allies there and stormed away from the table.

"Thanks guys," Hermione mumbled as she rose from the table. Right now all she wanted was to escape as all eyes fell on her. "I'll catch you guys later." Wasting not a second more she darted from the hall. Lunch was coming to a close anyway and she had double potions next on her schedule.

Turning towards the stone steps in the entry hall which led down into the dungeons Hermione ambled towards the laboratory. She was early so politely knocked on the door before entering. While Professor Snape was never present before a class began preferring to sweep in on unsuspecting students, they had a new potions professor this year.

"Come in, come in," the balding, rounded belly wizard called kindly from his desk. "Pick a spot and set up. The early bird catches the worm as it were. Your name is?"

"Hermione Granger err Riddle, Professor," Hermione replied. The slip was due to years of introducing herself as a Granger. She watched as the cheerful demeanor of the man faded into one of reserved caution.

"Ah yes," he responded so as not to appear phased. "I've heard quite a bit about you Miss. Riddle. You are quite bright or so I'm told."

"I try my best sir," she agreed humbly. The wizard didn't reply further and Hermione knew that it was her name making him uncomfortable. Prone to research as she was and Hogwarts a History being her favorite text she knew the aging man to be returning from retirement. In his prime he would have taught and been the head of house when her father was a student. She imagined there was a history there, one the wizard wasn't eager to relive. She couldn't blame him.

Therefore, she took the corner seat at the table farthest from his desk where she wouldn't be a bother to him. It wasn't long before the rest of the class filtered in and the desks began to fill. The instructor had begun his introduction when the door burst open and Harry and Ron rushed in.

"Sorry we're late Professor," her best friend panted, out of breath, "We only just had the class added to our timetable."

"It's alright Mr. Potter, why don't the two of you take the table up here?"

"If you don't mind sir, Hermione doesn't seem to have a partner yet and that table would make a trio. Perhaps I could sit back here."

"Nonsense, Mr. Potter. Miss. Riddle is competent enough to brew on her own," Slughorn protested. Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry's antics. She got that he was furious over the situation being what it was but why couldn't he wrap his mind around the fact that the teachers had specific instructions to separate them? Whatever he tried wasn't going to work.

Harry didn't have another option as he couldn't disobey the professor so obviously and he shuffled up to the front.

"Open your books to page 410," Slughorn instructed. "If you don't have a text yet due to a change in the schedule you may grab one from the storeroom." The latter was for the benefit of Harry and Ron who crossed the room to retrieve their books. Hermione opened her own and read the title of the potion, Draught of Living Death.

"I have a special prize for any of you who can brew this potion perfectly," their professor expressed. The N.E.W.T level class immediately set to work. Hermione was frustrated with how difficult this potion was to brew but didn't miss how Harry, an until now barley passable potions student, was not following the directions and yet wasn't running into problems.

In the end, it was he who won the small vile of Felix Felicis, or liquid luck as it was more commonly referred to. Hermione wondered about that but shut the thought away seeing as she couldn't exactly confront him about it when they weren't supposed to be talking to each other. The class scrambled out and Hermione had another free period. Wondering if she should head to the library or not she was startled when Draco ran up to her.

"I've a free period now," he stated. "You?" Hermione nodded.

"Want to take that walk now then?" She returned and he assented so they set off into the courtyard.

"What's going on, Hermione?" The Slytherin asked when they were far enough away from the bustle of other students.

"I don't know what to say Draco," Hermione started. "Everything has gone to hell in a hand basket, sorry muggle saying. I thought Harry and Ron's reaction to me hanging around you and associating with other Slytherin's was bad but it was only the tip of the iceberg."

"Potter does have a tendency to overreact, but even I can tell there is something more going on. Especially after lunch and then potions. I mean I thought it was odd when you chose to sit next to me in charms… and things have only gotten stranger from there." Draco expressed with genuine concern.

"Yeah, you can say that again. I've been forbidden from hanging around him. Professor Dumbledore has decided that I can no longer be trusted due to the factors of my birth. I've been removed from Gryffindor tower and restricted from interacting with him in public areas as well."

"Salazar! That is completely messed up," the blond gaped.

"That isn't the worst part. He tried to look in my mind last night, I blocked him but now he thinks I know something I shouldn't. I've never told anybody this before but I've never completely grown close to him. He has always seemed to hold me at arm's length and I've never been on the receiving end of his twinkling eye."

"We have that in common at least," Draco attempted humor though it was only half-heatedly. Hermione sniffed.

"Draco, I think that Dumbledore knew about me all this time," Hermione whispered to him. "I'm fairly certain, I don't have proof but my gut tells me he at least has known who I really am all this time. He could be more directly involved in what happened to me as well."

"Okay," Draco drawled "What makes you think that exactly?"

"It was something in his reaction. Like he somehow I thought I knew something I was never supposed to and was worried about the extent of my knowledge. The look in his eye was cold, like he wouldn't think twice of oblivating me if I knew too much. Little does he realize that he only made me more suspicious of him."

"You need to stay as far away from him as possible, Hermione," Draco insisted. "If you are right about it, and really when have you ever been wrong, then he is a danger to you.

"Funny how that works," Hermione mused, "Not so long ago I would have thought it was my father who was the most dangerous to me."

"He might not be one for fatherly affection, but he wouldn't kill his own kin. I don't envy you by any means but I do think you are safer with him then with Dumbledork."

"You're probably right," the witch sighed. "That is what scares me. He is so close to Harry and despite everything Harry trusts him."

"Potter isn't the best judge of people's characters Hermione," Draco replied.

"Oh I don't know, He had you pegged pretty well on day one," She jibed and hit him playfully on the arm. "Seriously though, I think Harry makes assumptions of people based on his first impression of them. Professor Snape for instance, who was glaring at him at the welcome feast in first year and then was short with him that first potions class. In Harry's opinion that makes him an enemy. Then Dumbledore who showed him an ounce of kindness once and he is suddenly a hero."

"Talk about seeing the world through rose-tinted glasses…" Draco muttered.

"Precisely. He is blind to all the signs to the contrary once he has made up his mind and I'm afraid one day it's going to get him into trouble."

"Do you honestly believe that he can win this war?" Draco asked the question with a true desire to hear her opinion not in a malicious dismissal of the Gryffindor's capabilities.

"I don't know," Hermione confessed. "I want to, but as I said he puts trust in people who may not be looking after his best interests. My father doesn't exactly trust anybody and he only ever looks after his own interests."

"Not to mention has an extensive knowledge of the dark arts and far more experience than St. Potter," Draco quipped. Hermione pursed her lips at him for his use of the dreaded nickname but couldn't argue with the point he made. Voldemort was more knowledgeable about magic and how it worked. Harry possessed some level of innate talent. However, when it came to learning the boy did not study or research, all of his skill was practical. It was a gaping disadvantage for him.

The witch glanced up at Draco and was taken aback by the frown that crossed his features. "I thought for sure you would have more confidence in him," He explained at her puzzled expression. "He truly is the only hope for the wizarding world to have any sort of structure in it."

Hermione was worried about her former foe turned unlikely friend. While she knew that his methods did not align with those of her father he was still biased against those with impure blood. For him to all but admit that he hoped for Harry to be on the winning side was tantamount to him progressing in tolerance. It would take something very serious for Draco to change his colors. From his gaunt complexion there was something weighing on him.

"Are you alright Draco," she asked quietly. "How was your first night back?"

"I'm fine, it was alright," he automatically replied but Hermione could see he was holding something back. "You mentioned earlier that you were kicked out of Gryffindor tower, where are you sleeping?"

"I have a private dorm on the seventh floor," Hermione answered allowing him to change the subject. "It would be nice if it weren't for the reasoning behind it. It feels like I've traded one prison for another."

"Can't you sneak Potthead and Weaslbee into your dorm then?"

"Nope. Visitors are monitored and subject to prior authorization. I put you at the top of my list along with some other of your housemates that Professor Snape suggested. I can still associate with some people who aren't as close to Harry and they should be okay to come over. Other than that, its solitary confinement I'm afraid."

"Wow," Draco whistled. "That is really fucked up. I suppose the bright side is it gives you an opportunity to associate with those of us your father deems worthy.

"Yeah, that is what Professor Snape said," Hermione said. "I'm sure being seen hanging around you lot isn't going to help me plead my case any. Even Harry doesn't support that."

"Fuck what they think. In my experience Dumbledore has looked at all of us in Slytherin and tossed us aside like dirt. He hasn't once bothered with us or offered us support. His judgement of us all begins before the stupid hat is even placed on our heads and the moment it calls out Slytherin he's signed our death warrant."

"I've never thought that was fair, and believe me I have noticed how he and other professor treat you guys. Granted when you go around acting like prats it isn't surprising that you aren't well liked but you aren't at fault for how you were raised."

"We Slytherin's stick together. It's us against the world and we watch out for each other because we know nobody else is watching out for us. Congratulations Hermione, it seems as though you've just joined the club."

"You're right," Hermione gasped. "I hadn't thought of it like that. I have been cast aside and discarded not because of my house but because of my birth."

"Don't worry, we will look after you now," Draco soothed. "For the record, I'm sorry that you have to know what it feels like to be in our shoes."

"I suppose we will just have to work together to change that then."

"Good luck," Draco scoffed. "Slytherin has been the brunt of their prejudice for a long time. Nothing ever changes."

"I never said it would be easy. You yourself just stated earlier that you want to see a different outcome to this brewing war than the one we'll get if my father has his way," The witch summarized.

"I never said any such thing," Draco objected.

"Yes, you said that Harry was our only hope for a structured world. You, Draco Lucius Malfoy, son of a death eater, want a different outcome than the one you've been forced into supporting. You may not have said it in so many words but it doesn't change how you feel."

"You are entirely too observant for your own good, Riddle."

"Aw, you know you love me, ferret," Hermione laughed. "Admit it, I'm right though, aren't I?"

"I thought we already discussed earlier that you are rarely, if ever, wrong. So, no, you are not misled in your assumption. But I will deny that if you tell."

"It won't go beyond us. I know you have an image to maintain, one that keeps you protected as much as possible."

"How are you planning on bringing about a change for prejudice against the house of green and silver," Draco brought the subject back as they circled back to the courtyard. "Something along the same lines of spew? How well did that work out for you?"

"It's S.P.E. W, society for the promotion of elfish welfare, not spew!" Hermione defended before continuing. "I don't have any plans. I only hope that one day I will have the opportunity to try."

"I suppose that's fair," the blond replied. "So, are you planning on going to dinner tonight? It seemed pretty clear that the fool who runs this place wasn't keen on Potter sitting with you."

"No, I don't think he was. Honestly, I don't know. My private dorm has a kitchen and the elves have been instructed to supply food for me, so I don't have to go. However, there is the chance that I can at least exchange a few words with them."

"I wouldn't if I were you. The whole school is probably gossiping about the whole scene at lunch and you don't need the extra attention right now. If you have the alternative available I would take it."

"Thanks Draco," Hermione sighed. "You have helped me more than you know."

"Always here to lend you support, or even a shoulder to cry on. More than anyone here I know what it is like to be painted in a negative light by those who have no clue what our life is like on a daily basis. That and I do know what it is like for you. Now, go study. You know you want to."

"Prat," Hermione giggled. "I do want to get a head start on that essay for defense against the dark arts."

"Ha, I knew it!" Draco exclaimed gleefully. "See you around." He bided as he walked away from her. Hermione shook her head as she headed upstairs to her dorm. Classes were due to be letting out any minute and Draco was right, she didn't need to face the student body and their staring, pointing and whispering.

For the first time in the history of her career at Hogwarts the witch didn't even feel like going to the library. The book filled haven that had been her sanctuary was only another reminder of how pitiful her life was without her best friends. The others may be angry over her plight and while it was nice to have some level of sympathy, she didn't want to see the pity in their eyes.

Hermione honestly wanted a long, hot, bubble bath with a cold glass of pumpkin juice followed by a good book. Narcissa had graciously loaned several tomes both educational as well as fictional to her for the school term. Once again, she was faced with the realization of how much she had changed in two weeks. The old Hermione as it were would have holed herself up at her favorite table in the library with a stack of books and been working on all of her homework. That was before she would read ahead through the first several months of material for her classes. Now, she didn't care as much about maintain that image.

The thought scared her more than a little. She was so overwhelmed by everything in her life she didn't recognize herself anymore. However, the last thing she wanted at that moment was to think. "Pocket full of Posies," she said the portrait of the dancing girl and walked through the door. Hecate greeted her in the common room where Hermione threw down her school bag.

"Hello girl," she cooed to the beautiful black furball. "How was your day? Hopefully ten times better than mine." Hecate mewled in response and followed the witch into the bathroom watching curiously as she ran the taps for her bath. The moment the brunette stepped into the soothing warmth of the water she exhaled deeply and let go of her stress. There were few places Hermione could simply be, free of worry, free of time commitments, free of demands and of sadness. She had long ago decided that the bath would be one of these places and when she sat in the water she would be relaxed and not wrapped up in thought. The shift was instantaneous as she sunk deeper into the tub until she was fully submerged. Reaching for her wand from where she set it on the sink edge, she summoned her almond scented shampoo and conditioner from her trunk and lathered the cleansing solution into her frizzing hair.

Lanny, her personal elf at the manor, had taught her a thing or two about taming her wild curls but after the day she had they were becoming unruly once more. The chemicals in the brand she discovered since having the house elf tend to her locks somehow worked miracles as far as smoothing her hair out and providing glossy shine. Hermione was almost entirely sure it was a magical blend considering she "discovered" it after she was taken to Malfoy Manor, and how well it worked for it. She had yet to come across a muggle hair product that could do half of what this blend offered.

The only other product Hermione had used that provided the benefits of smooth, straight hair was Sleakeasy's hair potion. The magical solution was actually created by Harry's grandfather Fleamont Potter and her friend still had royalties going into his vault from it. However, even that product had its limitations for Hermione. The one time she used it, for the Yule Ball and her date with Viktor Krum, it had taken over four bottles of the stuff and still only flattened her hair down enough to create an elegant French twist. There was no way that this shampoo and conditioner were not magically created.

Not that it mattered. While the witch wouldn't complain about the advantages of using it, the real reason she liked it was because of the warm, soothing almond fragrance which relaxed her. It reminded her of home, when her mum would go on a baking spree and whisk up a batch of her famous almond cookies and lemon tea cakes, filling the kitchen with the pleasant aroma. If it weren't for the fact that Hermione pledged to herself that her bath time ritual was not a time to dwell on thoughts of the past or future she might break down and cry because of the memories elicited.

Awhile later, she wasn't sure how long, the water grew tepid and the bubbles had long since dissipated and Hermione rose from the tub and wrapped herself in a fluffy towel. Padding through her common room to her bedroom she dug through her dresser for comfort clothes. After a week of listening to Hermione whine about the fine, acromantula silk nightgowns Narcissa finally relented and had Lanny buy a set of regular pajamas. The Egyptian cotton, plaid designed bottoms and plain white top were a far cry from her favorite pink flannel set lost somewhere in her old muggle life but they were okay in a pinch.

Once dressed she dug through her trunk until she found a book from Draco's mom's private collection, one she kept tucked away in a small corner of their library and never mentioned to her husband or vile sister. Of course, Lucius Malfoy was aware of her treasures because his money purchased them and he indulged her so long as she didn't embarrass him by owning them. Narcissa Malfoy had an entire shelf of famous muggle classic novels. Muggle literature and some pieces of art it seemed where somewhat socially acceptable among the pureblood elitists in the wizarding world.

Selecting Jane Eyre from the borrowed stack Hermione retreated to the couch in her common room, in front of a blazing fire, with a warm blanket and began to read. Charlotte Bronte's period piece written in a timeless and sophisticated style washed over Hermione as her eyes darted left to right as she took in the words creating a picture in her mind as though she herself was the character living the situations they did. Briefly she paused to consider that the heartbreaking, melancholy plot in the novel was preferable to her own life. She was lost in the world in the novel when the door to her door was opened and her head of house walked in.

"Sorry to disturb you, my dear," Professor McGonagall mentioned apologetically. "I wanted to inform you straightaway that I was successful in approving your list of acceptable visitors to your dorm."

"Even Ginny?' Hermione inquired as she looked up from her reading and closed the tome softly.

"Yes, even Miss. Weasley," the older witch confirmed. "Headmaster Dumbledore tried to fight me on that one but I would have none of it and with the approval of all three other heads of house he couldn't argue. Your friends will have been informed of their invitation by their own house heads."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione replied. "I assume that they will only be able to access that dorm at my own extension of an invitation, and that their visits will be monitored."

"Naturally," McGonagall affirmed. "The little girl in the portrait also has a small frame in my own office. I'll be informed of any visitors and have been ordered to record them. Headmaster Dumbledore may ask to see this record at any time."

"I understand Professor," The younger witch returned with a sharp incline of her chin.

"I heard about what happened at lunch this afternoon," She prodded. "I warned you there would be attempts to keep you apart there as well."

"You did," Hermione agreed. "I moved from my usual place so that I wouldn't be near him and Harry came to sit there. He made a scene in front of everyone over not wanting to move or step out to talk to Professor Dumbledore."

"I trust you understand that was only the beginning, that further strategies would only be more invasive."

"Yes, I gathered that," Hermione replied. "I'm not sure how much I'll be eating in the great hall."

"I don't want you to become a recluse Hermione, but I think, at least for now that may be best."

"You know Professor, for the first time since I was eleven and you just informed me, I was a witch, I hate being here. I pride myself on my education and on learning all Hogwarts has to offer but this place no longer feels like home and I found myself wanting to leave many times today."

"Ach, child, don't let people back you into that corner. You belong here just like anybody else muggleborn or the pureblood child of he-who-must-not-be-named matters not for having a place here. Those who suggest otherwise are wrong and you shouldn't bend to them."

"No matter how the wind howls the mountain cannot bend to it," Hermione quoted from her favorite Disney film, Mulan. The message seemed apt to what her favorite professor had said. The elder witch blinked in confusion before shaking her head.

"Not sure where you got that phrase from but that is the gest of my message. Stand strong and tall my dear and don't let anyone, and I mean anyone, cause you to withdraw from this school. Not even yourself."

"I won't be leaving Professor, I'm much too stubborn for that,' Hermione promised. "I'm only sad because I've never not wanted to be here before."

"I know. If you ever need to talk my door is always open. Good times or bad."

"I appreciate that. I think there are going to be many more bad times than good."

"Goodnight Hermione," Her professor bided. "Try and get some sleep and not overthink all of this."

"I will Professor. Goodnight," Hermione echoed and watched as the other woman left her listening to the portrait door click back into place. Her stomach growled signaling to her that the hour had grown later and that she needed to choose something for dinner. The fact that she was hungry wasn't surprising seeing as she had rushed through her breakfast and picked at her lunch.

"Winky," She called out hesitantly, her morals weighing on her for using the service of creatures who were not paid. However, Hermione's popularity standing with the Hogwarts elves was low due to her efforts in prior years to trick them into clothes. The witch recalled that Winky herself had been appalled at the thought of freedom. The little elf appeared a moment later.

"You must be wanting dinner now," she assumed without greeting. Hermione smiled.

"Yes Winky, thank you. What is being served for dinner tonight?"

"Sheppard's pie, broccoli or cabbage, a fruit salad or Cesare salad and treacle tart for dessert," The elf recited.

"Okay, could I please have the Sheppard's pie with a small helping of broccoli and a side portion of Cesare salad, and some treacle tart?"

"Yes. What do you be wanting to drink?"

"Mulled apple cider please," Hermione ordered after a moment of indecision.

"Coming right up," Winky said before popping out of the room. Less than a minute later she was back with a tray of Hermione's requested dishes and set it on the table before once again disappearing.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered to the empty room. She sat down at the table to partake of the meal and sighed at how lonely it was eating for one. The worst part was this was only day one. Without conversation and other distractions, she finished quickly. The food as always was delicious and comforting.

Leaving the dishes on the table she rose to head back to her reading nook when a soft knocking on her wall sounded. Upon inspection Hermione realized it was from next to the portrait hole so she headed over and opened the door.

"Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed when she saw her. "I was worried when you didn't come to dinner. McGonagall called me and Neville to her office after classes today and let us know we were okay to come up here and visit."

"Hi Ginny," Hermione said and stepped aside to usher the red head inside. The younger witch stopped short when she saw the common room. "As you can see, I have my own area to eat if I want to skip going to the Great Hall."

"Harry was looking for you there," Ginny mentioned.

"After Lunch today I don't know how wise it is for me to go there for meals. First of all, it going to be difficult to sit at the table and not be able to talk to him. Secondly, I don't relish being the topic of everyone's gossip."

"Why wouldn't you be able to talk to Harry at meals? I mean I realize Dumbledore wants to keep you distant from each other in classes and the common room and such. Mostly in places where you are less supervised. But the great hall id full of teachers watching all of us, and we never discuss anything order related there."

"As I understand it, I'm not exactly forbidden from speaking to Harry or Ron at meals. However, I was warned to expect interruptions and maneuvers that would keep us from spending too much time around each other. Lunch today was one such example. You see how Dumbledore pulled Harry aside. It was likely because he sat by me," Hermione explained.

"I don't understand why he is doing this!" Ginny cried out in frustration. "I mean what possibly reason does he have? You are still you for Godric's sake. You would never betray Harry."

"Of course I wouldn't," Hermione assured calmly. "You know that, He knows that, I know that, hell even Dumbledore knows it. He just doesn't care."

"You've never seemed to like Dumbledore overly much, 'Mione," the red head observed. "Before all of this I mean. Now, I see why you wouldn't."

"It wasn't that I didn't like the headmaster before Gin, rather I always felt as though something was off about him when he looked at me. It was subtle and well-hidden but I somehow didn't get the same level of warmth that Harry and you lot did."

"Hmm," Ginny hummed. "That does seem strange. I'm not doubting your intuition but it seems weird he'd treat you differently before he knew. Don't mistake me for justifying that he has solid reasoning for treating you coldly now, he is completely off base."

"No offense taken," Hermione soothed her flustered friend. Sometimes Ginny was more like the boys in her family then she cared to admit, and would comment on something in a way that could be misconstrued. Hermione knew she didn't mean harm. "I can't help myself from wondering though if Dumbledore was as in the dark about my identity as we all thought he was." It was a partial lie, as she didn't wonder at all. Hermione knew that Dumbledore was more informed than any of them had been prior to last summer.

"You mean you think he knew before you were taken and kept it hidden?" Ginny asked horrified by the suggestion.

"Yes Ginny, that is exactly what I'm saying. It would explain his lack of complete warmth toward me all these years," Hermione said seriously.

"Forgive me Hermione, but I hope that you are wrong," her friend expressed. Hermione nodded for the benefit of Ginny because she understood how hard it was to lose trust in somebody you looked up to.

"It's getting late Ginny," the brunette announced awhile later. "It will be curfew soon and you had best get to the tower soon. Why don't you come over for dinner tomorrow?"

"Sure," Ginny accepted immediately. "One last question though. How come there are so many Slytherin's on list of people who can visit here?"


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Enjoy The latest update. The next one should be soon. Thank you as always for your reviews.**

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Weeks flew by fading into months and Hermione developed a new routine for her circumstances. While things certainly were not ideal and she missed being able to hang out with her best friends and chill by the great fore in the Gryffindor common room, she had become accustomed to the differences. The witch took her head of houses words of advice to heart and successfully adapted to thrive under the new conditions and restrictions imposed on her. On the days where things were harder she chanted her personal motto, the same quote from Mulan she had said to professor McGonagall at the start of term. The mountain cannot now bow to the wind, it reminded her that no matter what life threw at her and how hard it tested her that she could not let it do her in.

The witch rarely, if ever took meals with the rest of the student population but often invited others to dine with her in her dorm. She was pleasantly surprised to find that it was easy to bond with the Slytherin girls. Some of them had bullied her in years past but they were in similar familiar situations as Draco. Although they didn't have the pleasure of living with Voldemort in their homes their parents were his followers and dictated to them how they should act.

It was Daphne who apologized first for things she had said in past years, and Pansy followed suit. Hermione forgave them happily and they moved on. With a new formation of friendships Hermione was able to tolerate the distance from Harry and Ron. Every once in awhile they could catch a quick word in the hallway or the library where they actually went to seek her out at times. Harry mad it clear from looks across the classroom that he didn't approve of her associating with the sixth year Slytherins but when they could catch a moment to talk he never said anything.

Hermione often partnered with Draco in classes, Theo Nott sat next to her in both Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, and Neville helped her out in Herbology, her weakest subject. Weekends found her welcome into the Slytherin common room with Professor Snape's permission or entertaining Ginny, Neville and Luna in her dorm. Draco was true to his word that she was under his and the Slytherin's protection and it wasn't long before the rude comments and suspicion glances from other students ceased.

Now snow covered the grounds and the air had grown bitterly cold as the end of November approached. The second Hogsmede weekend was upon them and Hermione walked down with Neville and Luna. Hermione was lad for the company on the way down but still noticed the shy glances Neville casted at the quirky blond. It seemed there was a budding relationship in the works.

"Guys, why don't we head to the Three Broomsticks," Neville suggested.

"That does sound Lovely," Luna replied. "It is quite cold out here." Hermione recognized an opportunity to meddle a bit and push the two into more than friendship.

'You guys go on ahead," Hermione said. "I actually need to get a couple of things from Madame Malkin's and Honeydukes before I stop by Tomes and Scrolls. I don't want to bore you though. Thanks for walking with me."

Her efforts were rewarded when Luna smiled at her knowingly before glancing up at a slightly red faced Neville who was shuffling his feet. "Come on Neville," The quirky witch said grabbing the boys arm. "Hermione wants to be alone right now, she is just too polite to say as much."

"Oh, err, okay." Neville muttered. "If you are sure Hermione."

"I am," Hermione called over her shoulder already walking away. "Go have fun, i'll catch you later."

She reached her first stop, and headed in. Her nefarious plans to secure herself some pants being put into motion. Narcissa would be horrified if she knew but Hermione had no intentions of telling her. Madame Malkin the magical seamstress did not seem to approve of her wish.

"Madame," Hermione finally said after arguing with the witch for five minutes, "If you are unable to fulfill my request I shall be forced to place a mail order to a muggle store for jeans. I'm only asking for some material to cover me up because its freezing in the castle."

"I can fill your request," The seamstress replied, "Young ladies should not wear trousers in public but it would be better to wear something I design over those ghastly muggle jeans."

"Thank you," Hermione sighed in relief as the witch began to take her measurements. "I'll even sweeten the deal. I have a New years eve gala to attend over the break with many powerful and successful members of society in attendance. I require a dress for the occasion, one that should befit my status. I leave the design of it up to you completely." Hermione almost laughed aloud when Madame Malkin's eyes widened with glee.

"I'd be honored," the shopkeeper replied. "You're all set dear, I'll have your gown and pants done for you at week's end. I'll send them up to Hogwarts by owl post."

"Perfect. Thank you Madame, you are too kind," Hermione said sweetly.

Her next stop was the popular sweets shop. Hermione had a weakness for sugar quills and the decadent chocolate bars, and wanted to pick up some other items for her friends, new and old. It would be difficult to get gifts to Harry and Ron because her outgoing mail was monitored and she couldn't send them via owl post.

Ginny would return to the burrow over the holidays and she could send something with her if she could get it to her in her dorm. However it had to be small. Ron loved chocolate frogs and Bertie's every flavored beans while Harry shared her taste for the chocolate bars and had a penchant for those ridiculous things that changed your voice to an animals. Stocking up on the candies for herself and her gifts she decided to add a little extra to keep on hand in her dorm.

It was when she was leaving the shop that a piercing scream filled the air. Without thinking Hermione withdrew her wand and went running towards the sound. She wasn't the only one.

Katie Bell was frozen, suspended in mid-air her mouth open in a silent scream. Suddenly the witch fell to the ground drawing Hermione's attention to a parcel laying in the snow. Harry, Ron and Ginny were standing up ahead of her right in front of Katie talking frantically to Katie's friend when professor McGonagall showed up with Hagrid in tow.

Hagrid picked up the unconscious witch and ordered Harry not to touch the object except for the wrappings. McGonagall demanded to know what happened.

"I don't know professor," harry began. "We were leaving the Three Broomsticks and heard a scream so we came running. We saw Katie floating in the air and the necklace laying on the ground."

"It seems that the necklace is cursed. You have no idea who gave Katie this item," The Gryffindor head of house directed the question Katie's best friend.

"No Professor. Katie went into the bathroom and she didn't have the package. When she came out had it and was insistent that she had to deliver it the headmaster. I told her not to open it," The sobbing seventh year explained frantically.

"You have no idea who would have given her the parcel?"

"No professor," the girl replied again. "I didn't see anything."

"Very well," Professor McGonagall began only to be interrupted by Harry.

"It was Malfoy," the raven haired boy replied adamantly.

"That is a serious accusation Mr. potter. Unless you saw him hand Miss. Bell the necklace with your own eyes you shouldn't rush to assumptions. Did you in fact see Mr. Malfoy give Miss. Bell the object?" Their professor demanded an explanation.

"No Professor," Harry said. "But It was Malfoy. I know it was."

"I'm sorry Mr. Potter, but I cannot persecute a student based on childish rivalry. Not with something of this magnitude. All of you head up to the castle now. This Hogsmede trip is over." McGonagall replied.

Hermione melted into the background looking around for Draco. He had said he had to stay in the castle to help Professor Snape with something. However Harry seemed so sure she wondered if he had seen Draco in the village that day. Satisfied at not seeing him anywhere she headed up to the castle with the rest of the students.

She returned to her dorm with the nagging feeling that Harry wasn't completely wrong. Draco had been off since he returned to school, and she had long suspected that he had some task assigned to him from her father. However, that necklace very nearly killed Katie just by the witch touching it and it was intended for Dumbledore. She couldn't think of her friend capable of cursing their headmaster. Hermione may no trust the old wizard and have Draco in agreement with her, but she wouldn't wish him dead. She needed to talk to harry more than ever. If she was careful could get a message to him, it was possible to meet him in private. The Room of requirement was down the corridor from her dorm, and Harry had the Invisibility cloak he could use to sneak around. They would have to be careful and could not be seen by anybody but it might just work.

Hermione went to The Great hall for Dinner that night, sitting at the end of the table. She motioned for Neville to come sit by her and when he did she talked with him about the Hosgmede trip. Neville only heard about the incident when he and Luna returned to the castle grounds. They had been in the three Broomstick the entire time. Near the end of dinner Hermione passed a note to him beneath the table.

"Neville, I wouldn't ask you to do this if it wasn't of the utmost importance. If you don't read it you can't be accused of knowing anything. Can you please get that to Harry for me?" Hermione begged.

"Hermione," Neville sighed reluctantly. "I could get in trouble, I swore not to pass any messages from you on to harry and vice versa when i accepted being able to visit you in your dorm."

"I know Neville. I swear I wouldn't put you in this position if I had another option," Hermione pleaded.

"Fine," Neville said. "But don't tell me a word about it."

"Thank you," She breathed out. The meal ended and she made a show of saying goodnight and headed back up to her dorm to wait until midnight. Having found a way to keep on track with her studies, and by on track she meant far ahead of her peers, Hermione was already caught up on homework. She had finished the course reading for the term but knew there were still several essays coming up before the break. Therefore, Hermione waited out the hours with her nose in her defense against the dark arts textbook scribbling words on parchment for last unit before school would end for Christmas. Professor Snape assigned more essays than any other Professor so It behooved the witch to not only take notes but to research, cross reference, and properly cite her sources in essay format on the subject of non-verbal curses.

Her wand emitted a loud, beeping sound as her magical timer went off alerting her to the hour. Packing up her work neatly she disillusioned herself and crept out of the portrait hole and down the hall to the come and go room. If harry received her note she could bank on him arriving shortly. Too late she wondered if the girl in the portrait recorded her movements after hours.

It was funny, but since being parted from Harry and Ron this term she didn't find cause to sneak out after curfew and hadn't done so at all until now. If her sneaking out was recorded, which she wasn't even certain it was, then she was busted out. However, she reminded herself that by the time someone realized she was moving about the castle at night it would be too late to stop the meeting.

Yes, Dumbledore could request to see the log of who came and went from her rooms at any time, but it was unlikely he would have a reason to look at it tonight. By the time he saw anything her meeting with Harry would already be over and done with. She would face whatever consequences that might arise later.

As the door to the room of requirement opened and revealed a mirror image of her dorm's common room she cancelled her disillusionment spell. Moments later the door opened and closed again and Harry as well as Ron threw off the cloak of invisibility to reveal themselves to her. Hermione wasted no time before launching herself across the room and into a hug with each of them.

"I've missed you guys so much!" She exclaimed.

"We've missed you too. It sucks being so distant from you," Harry replied. "I wish we were doing more about it." Hermione wanted to do more about it as well though was not in a position to fight Dumbledore. she was on thin ice as it was and going against his implicit orders to keep away from them would likely get her expelled. having to be distant from them but still able to see them in classes and such was better for her than having no access to them at all.

Hermione also knew that while Harry was sore with him over his unfair decision that he still looked up to and trusted Dumbledore. He wasn't ready to hear Hermione's suspicions and have that trust broken. "I don't know what we can do. Listen, this isn't why I wanted to meet with you."

"Why did you?" Ron inquired as he settled onto the couch. "What is this place?" He muttered looking about the room and wondering what Hermione had thought of when requesting the room.

"It's a replica of my dorm's common room. Seeing as you can't meet me there this will have to do. I saw what happened to Katie, I was behind you guys when it happened. I heard what you said about Draco."

"Malfoy did this, Hermione! Don't even try to defend him," Harry bellowed.

"I'm not defending anybody. I want to know why you think he did it," Hermione attempted to calm him down.

"Why? Because he is a damned death eater and has been sneaking about the castle at all hours. I've been watching him on the map."

"You don't know that he is a death eater Harry," Hermione chided. "He could also have a reason for moving about the castle."

"He's up to something and he is the closest person to Voldemort in this whole school. We both know that Voldemort hates Dumbledore and would look for any way to get rid of him."

"You don't have the facts to accuse Draco of doing something like this," Hermione reasoned.

"I don't need facts. He is the only person who makes sense for an attempted attack on Dumbledore. You are the only other person here who has seen the Voldemort over the summer and you wouldn't be responsible for this," Harry insisted. Hermione turned her gaze to Ron.

"Malfoy has been acting strange all year. I mean yeah it's weird seeing him actually treat you with respect, and I still can't believe you actually hang out with him, but whatever is going on with him is beyond that."

"Have you considered that the incident occurred in Hogsmede? The castle is warded but the village is not. It's possible another death eater could have slipped the cursed necklace to somebody and instigated the events."

"How, there were teachers and aurors everywhere, no death eater could get close to the village. Unless there was one they don't know about. No one would expect a student to already have the dark mark."

"Draco wasn't even in Hogsmede this weekend!" Hermione finally burst out. "You are accusing him of doing something when he was in the castle, with Professor Snape all day."

"Well that solves everything then doesn't it. Snape vouches for Malfoy being here all day. Because Snape wouldn't possibly lie to cover for one of his students, one of his brethren."

"You stop it right now Harry Potter!" Hermione bit out between clenched teeth. "Professor Snape is not only a teacher of this school bound to protect all of Hogwarts's students, He is also a valued member of the order. If he says that Draco was with him all day then he was."

"Stop calling him Draco," Harry demanded. "How can you trust him? How can you want to be in his presence after all he's said and done to you? How can you even be on a first name basis with bloody Malfoy."

"Mate," Ron interjected before Hermione could reach her wand and hex her best friend. "Calm down. Hermione's told you why she has moved past Malfoy's previous ill-treatment. We don't have to like it but I for one respect her decision."

"I don't trust him!" Harry hollered.

"Do you trust Hermione?" Ron wanted to know. When Harry nodded in the affirmative he continued. "Then trust her to know what she is doing. I agree Malfoy is acting odd but that could be for any reason. It would be pretty hard to slip the cursed necklace to someone if he wasn't in the village. We never actually saw him there."

"Fine," Harry hissed. 'Don't believe me, but when i'm proved right don't come crying to me."

"Harry,"Hermione called as the wizard stormed out of the room but she was ignored. Ron glanced at her apologetically before moving to follow.

"Sorry 'Mione but he's my safe passage back to the tower," The red head explained before he too vanished out the door. Hermione sighed in frustration, this meeting not going how she wanted it to.

However, it was a complete failure. Draco had been acting strange, distancing himself from his friends, black rings under his eyes from lack of sleep, a paler complexion than normal. Harry confirmed that he worries were justified, and Hermione knew the map never lied. if Harry had seen Draco wandering about after dark then he was probably correct that Draco was hiding something. Hermione disapproved of her best friend's tendency to rush to conclusions and refuse to accept facts that disproved his suspicions. It grated on her nerves that he was allowing five years of house rivalry and name calling to create a permanent foe of Draco. They wouldn't ever be friends, Hermione didn't expect that, but Harry often took his dislike of the blond too fat.

This latest accusation was one such case. Sighing heavily the witch left the room of requirement and headed back to her dorm. Once safely inside she decided that she would coerce Draco into coming up for dinner the following evening. Determined to talk with him and find out what was going on Hermione would warn him that Harry was out to expose him. She fell into bed exhausted and afraid over what was happening inside her school.

Somebody had tried to kill Dumbledore, and nearly killed a half-blood witch in the process. The attempt had to have come from her father's orders. The method, the timing, and the motive all pointed back to him.

Partnered with Draco in potions the next afternoon, Hermione seized her opportunity.

"You look tired," she commented as she sliced Lacewing flies. She was never more happy for the freelance project the professor had assigned that semester. Working with a partner they were too choose an advanced level potion from their textbook, research and successfully brew it before the final exam. Class periods were for independent study and there was no lecture for her to interrupt by talking to Draco.

"I suppose I may be a little tired," he drawled as he ground the bicorn horn into a powder. "Haven't been getting much sleep lately."

"Oh? Staying up late studying does lead to a lack of sleep," Hermione eased into the assumption though she knew studying was not the reason he wasn't getting shut eye. When the blond didn't rush to correct her she pressed on"I study late a lot too but you seem more worn out than I am. You should take a break tonight. Why don't you come over for a quiet dinner with me tonight and then hang out a while."

"Sure," Draco accepted the invitation after a long hesitation. "I'm a head of schedule in my studying anyways and you're right breaks are important."

"Sounds good then," Hermione replied. "I'll see you about half past six. Bring a book or something to do after we eat."

"Alright, I will. Is the potion ready for the powdered bicorn horn yet?" Draco asked turning the subject back to their task at hand.

"Hang on a moment. I still have to add the boomslang skin, I was waiting for you to finish with the powder," the witch explained as she added three measure of the ingredient to the cauldron. "Should be ready now."

"Good," Draco said as he added the powder. Hermione increased the temperature of the flame to scalding and waited twenty seconds before reducing the heat and waving her wand over the top.

"Now it has to brew for twenty-four hours," she said. "I have the lacewing flies all set for tomorrow and that's it for the final stages."

"Great, it's almost done then. This potion seemed to come unnaturally easy for you, Hermione," Draco pressed.

"I may or may not have brewed polyjuice potion before," Hermione muttered.

"May or May not have?" Draco laughed. "Did you or did you not brew it before now."

"I have in fact brewed it before," Hermione confessed.

"Of course you have? When?"

"In second year."

"Second Year!" The wizard exclaimed. "How the hell, scratch that, where the hell did you manage to brew polyjuice in second year? If you haven't noticed this is an advanced level potion."

"Ummm, I sort of snuck into the restricted section and obtained a copy of Most Potent Potions, and Brewed it in the first floor girl's bathroom," Hermione said.

"Bloody Hell," Draco whistled lowly. "Was it done correctly?"

"It was," Hermione beamed. "Although I ran into a small problem with the hair I used."

"Do I want to know?"

"Probably but even if you beg I'm still not going to tell you."

Draco snickered. "Yeah I defiantly want to know now. Why were you brewing polyjuice potion in second year exactly. If I didn't know better I'd believe that you were doing it simply to prove you could, but I do know better and you, Potter and Weasley were always up to something."

"We brewed it to sneak into the Slytherin common room and spy because we figured the heir of Slytherin had to be from your house."

"I knew it! Potter and Weasley were Crabbe and Goyle weren't they. I knew there was something off about those two that night."

"Congratulations, Mr. Observant," Hermione mumbled as she packed up her books and ingredients to clean up her station. Everything but the cauldron removed she grabbed her bag off the floor and left the potions laboratory headed out of the dungeons and up to the seventh floor.

Her plan officially in motion, Hermione prepared for having company over in a few hours. First she tidied up her common room. Like Gryffindor tower the elves regularly cleaned at night and there was never a speck of dirt in sight. However, Hermione straightened up her desk so that her homework and books were not scattered everywhere, and brought out a couple of blankets from her trunk and placed them on the sofa.

"Winky," the witch called softly. The elf appeared moments later.

"Miss called for Winky? Does miss be wanting a snack?"

"No, thank you Winky. I only wanted to give you a heads up that I am having a friend over for dinner tonight. Do you think that you could bring that up around seven?"

"Certainly. What would you like to eat?" The elf asked.

"A little of everything that is being served for dinner already is fine. There is no need to make anything extra."

"It's being roast chicken, mashed potatoes, asparagus and red cabbage, spaghetti with meatball sauce and a rum cake for dessert."

"Sounds delicious, Thank you Winky."

"Of course miss. I'll have dinner here at seven," Winky replied before disapparting. That business settled Hermione changed out of her school robes into her pajamas as she was still waiting for the owl order from Madame Malkins to arrive with her trousers.

Satisfied with both her comfort clothes and the overall appearance of her personal dorm she decided to pass the remaining time by playing with Hecate. Winky doted on the cat, perhaps feeling bad for the fact that the kitten didn't roam around the castle, and supplied plenty of toys for the feline. As she settled onto her bed and summoned the long stick with a feather attached at the end, a fat, angry faced and decidedly orange beast crawled out from underneath.

"Hello Crookshanks," Hermione said in a mock offended tone. The cat, whom she had agreed to watch for Ginny as he was driving the red-head mad, had pretty much ignored her since her arrival the previous week. Gone was her sweet, at least to her, and cuddly companion and left in his place was a recluse and snippy menace. Hermione figured that her original familiar was quite put out with her over the fact that they had been apart so long and at his replacement.

Although, considering the fact that he hadn't quite bonded with Ginny and despised most of the males in the burrow, Hermione had a feeling she might be getting him back after all. Of course, they still weren't allowed two familiars at Hogwarts, so she would have to discuss with Narcissa keeping one of them, namely Crookshanks, at the manor. She would wait to see how the grumpy old cat did in the manor over the holiday break.

Crookshanks hopped up onto the bed at Hermione's greeting and proceeded to climb onto her lap and purr loudly. Hecate who had been waiting on the floor for the feather to descend also jumped up. Strangely enough the two didn't seem to mind one another.

"Oh, so now you want to snuggle do you Crooks," Hermione chided the cat. "I'll have you know that Hecate and I were going to play." The orange beast glanced up to her briefly before stretching out fully on her lap as if to say he didn't care. The black kitten was not perturbed by not playing and decided a nap sounded nice and curled up right next to the aging cat. Hermione's heart melted at the sight.

Not wanting to disturb them Hermione non-verbally banished the toy back to its corner and reached for the book on her nightstand to rest along with her pets.

Draco arrived promptly at six-thirty and let himself in with the password. Finding the common room empty he crept over to the bedroom door and knocked. "Hermione, I'm here."

"Draco," She called out hurriedly, "I'll be right out. I'm just trying to extract myself from my cat." At her rushed explanation she heard the booming laugh of the wizard, who opened the door to see her predicament for himself.

"Catnapped were you?" He said between laughter.

"Oh shush you," Hermione retorted. "You try getting up when Crook shanks decides he is comfortable on your lap."

"Pass, thanks," Draco replied as he moved to help Hermione up from the bed.

"Thank you," Hermione said after he had extracted her from crookshank's hold on her. "I hope you don't mind but i didn't order anything special for dinner tonight, just whatever was already being served."

"That's I will say i'm offended you didn't go all out to impress me," Draco jibed.

"Har Har Har," Hermione said sarcastically.

"I didn't bring a book for later though. I thought we could maybe just talk instead?"

"Of course. Actually, I should probably admit that talking is the main reason I invited you over tonight."

"Uh oh," Draco groaned. "It's never a good thing when a witch says she wants to talk."

"I'm worried about you Draco," Hermione sighed. "I've heard some distressing rumors and I've noticed you're more withdrawn than usual."

"I…" Draco cut off and paced in front of the sofa. "I can't tell you anything Hermione."

"It's alright," Hermione soothed. "I don't need to know details of anything. I won't press you for information."

"Okay," he replied and calmed down enough to sit at the kitchen table. "I suppose that's not entirely true. I can tell you some things but not everything."

"Fair is fair," Hermione replied. "Whatever you're comfortable sharing. First just tell me if you are okay?"

"That depends," He simpered.

"Depends on what?" Hermione wondered aloud? Draco was quiet for several long moments.

"On this," he eventually replied as he rolled up his left sleeve. There on his forearm in inky black was the dark mark. Hermione repressed her gasp at the sight. She shouldn't be surprised, not long ago she would have pegged him as a dark wizard. However, she was taken aback at the sight. Knowing Draco as she did now, having become friends with him and realizing that how he acted wasn't how he actually felt it was almost a stark contradiction tattooed in his skin.

"Oh Draco," she whispered. "How long?" He was saved from immediately replying when platters of food suddenly appeared on the table. He took his time filling up a plate of poultry, heaps of potatoes and a small portion of the vegetables.

"It was before you came to be at the manor. I was marked at the beginning of the summer. I've been afraid to tell you."

"Why were you afraid?"

"Hermione, when you arrived in my home I meant what I said about being the only kid around and how lonely it was. I was glad to have company my own age for once, as the youngest death eater I was often overlooked. I thought if I told you that I would be shunned and that you would never forgive me."

"I'll admit that i'm not sure how I would have reacted if you told me straightaway. But Draco, it's been months now."

"The closer we became the more i feared losing you if I confessed," the wizard muttered. "I'm still afraid that I will."

"No Draco, you won't lose me," Hermione promised. "I know that you didn't ask for this."

"No, I didn't. It was forced upon me for my father's failure in the department of mysteries that night. I either took the mark or watched my mother tortured and killed. There wasn't a choice for me at all as far as I'm concerned."

"Oh Gods," Hermione cried. "That's horrible. Of course you took the mark."

"It was the worst pain I've ever felt in my life. Even the cruciatus isn't as painful. It felt like my soul was being ripped from my body."

"I think in a way it was. Don't you have to kill somebody to receive the mark?"

"Not necessarily. It is true most initiates do use the killing cures before being marked but that is for those who are recruited and brought before the dark lord, wanting to serve him."

"You were given the mark as a punishment," Hermione muttered insightfully. "You weren't willing at the time of the ritual, everybody knew you were only accepting it to save your mum."

"Yeah, exactly. I'm supposed to prove myself worthy of bearing the mark now that I have it. Most prove themselves worthy before receiving it."

"Does proving yourself worthy have anything to do with your lack of sleep and sneaking about the castle at night?" Hermione asked.

"How do you know about that?"

"Harry," Hermione stated simply. "He has a… I can't say. He knows though because he's seen you and he's suspicious. He thinks you had something to do with the attack in Hogsmede." Draco remained stoically silent. Hermione felt the hair on the back of her neck rise. "You didn't though, right?"

"It was not supposed to happen like that," Draco confessed. "Please don't hate me, I never meant for anybody to be hurt," He managed to say before bursting into wrenching sobs.

"Shhhh," the brunette soothed. "Shhh now, I already told you I don't hate you. I take it that whatever happened is something you can't tell me."

Draco shook his head conforming that he could't speak of it. "I was given a mission. I have to complete it by the end of the year or Mother will be killed anyway."

Hermione closed her eyes in pain for the wizards sitting across from her. She knew he wouldn't be able to give her any specifics so she wasn't going to ask. "Can you tell me what kind of mission you've been assigned?" She inquired softly.

Draco swallowed and looked at her with watery eyes. "I have to kill somebody," he intoned. Hermione already had a feeling who his target was. "The worst part is I don't know if I have the guts to do it, but if I don't…"

"If you don't the alternative is horrendous. It's a cruel thing to make you do," Hermione said. "Let me help you."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I'm so glad many of you enjoyed the last chapter, and that your sympathies lay firmly with Draco, as intended. As promised here is the next update , with a little bit of a, hopefully unexpected, plot twist for you all. Thankls again for all of your feedback.**

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

"Miss. Riddle," a cold, sneering voice called towards her as she was heading towards the main doors of the castle to catch the carriages to Hogsmede Station. Hermione turned to face her defense against the dark arts professor with a confused expression. "Please follow me," he stated and turned without waiting to see if she'd obey. She did of course.

"Professor," She protested, "If I don't hurry I could miss the train." They had arrived in his office located in the dungeons and he turned to face her with a glare.

"You will not be taking the train Miss. Riddle," Professor Snape informed.

"Why not? Draco is expecting me to sit with him on the train," Hermione protested.

"Mr. Malfoy will survive the journey without you Miss. Riddle. Your father has cause to believe that should you take the Hogwarts Express to London with the rest of the students there will be an attempt made by the order to kidnap you."

"That's ridiculous," Hermione spat. "The order wants me to have no contact with Harry, why would they kidnap me and bring me to the same place as him?"

"Don't think for one moment that the rest of the order agree with Dumbledore's decision to keep you and Potter apart. That said, any opportunity to get you away from the clutches of your father and deatheaters would be considered good. There may very well be an attempt to kidnap you. Therefore, your father insists that you are not on the train."

"Does that mean I won't be leaving the castle for the holidays?" The witch asked glumly. She needed more than anything to get out of the castle for a while even if it meant going to the headquarters of the deatheaters and forced to see her father.

"No, It means you will be flooing directly to the manor," Snape rolled his eyes. "Obviously." He opened the door to his private quarters and motioned for her to go in. Reluctantly she did so glancing up at the brooding wizard with nervousness.

"Professor, I thought the only working floo in the castle was located in the headmaster's office," She wondered aloud.

"Due to my status as an order spy and often being called to serve the dark lord I am granted the privilege as well.

"Oh," Hermione said dully.

"If you would please?" he snapped at her. "I believe you know your destination."

"Sorry Professor," She replied and quickly grabbed a handful of floo powder and dropped it into the fireplace calling out Malfoy Manor before she disappeared in a flash of green heatless flames. When the flames cleared she was standing in great fireplace in the foyer of the grand manor in Wiltshire.

As soon as she stepped out the floo roared to life again and Hecate and Crookshanks in their individual carriers arrived mewling in unhappiness. Hermione cooed at them and let them out immediately with a kiss to both of their heads.

"Daughter," a hissing utterance sounded behind her and the witch spun on her heel to face the green, snake-skinned wizard with glowing red eyes. "Severus got you home safely then, I see."

"Yes father," Hermione replied holding back the scathing remark that this was not her home.

"Indeed. Well, I'll leave you to unpack, we will discuss how this term went after dinner tonight. I am pleased with you." Hermione shuddered at the appraising look he directed at her. Outwardly she forced herself to smile.

"Of course father. I shall see you then." Voldemort glided away and Hermione and her two felines headed upstairs to her room to wait for Draco to arrive home from the train. Things had cemented between them after his big reveal to her at dinner weeks before.

It took some convincing on her part for him to agree to let her help him. First he scoffed as though she couldn't help him, and then repeated over and over again that he couldn't tell her details so there wasn't much she could help him with. However, Hermione insisted that while she may not be able to know anything of his mission that she could be of assistance to him somehow.

Eventually they agreed that Hermione could slyly convince her father that Narcissa was useful to him. That way should Draco fail his mother would not be on the chopping block. Of course, Hermione couldn't reveal that she knew anything of the mission only that Draco had told her that he was marked. She would find a way to do this, because not only was she her friend's mum, Narcissa had imprinted herself on Hermione as well.

The problem was, Hermione was not sure how to convince Voldemort that Narcissa was worth keeping around. She would have to think more on that. Returning her trunk in her pocket to its original size and lifting the lid Hermione jumped at the startling crack of aparation that filled the room.

"Missy be going to relax now," came the demanding and all too familiar voice of Lanny the house elf. "Lanny will be taking care of unpacking missy's trunk and looking after her beasts." Hermione frowned when her heart rate reached a normal beat again thinking of what Lanny would do with the trousers Madame Malkin had designed for her. However, the witch new arguing with the elf was futile. Despite Lanny's small stature she was surprisingly strong and fierce.

"I wouldn't dream of taking away your work Lanny," Hermione said sweetly.

"Good. Missy has learned something up at that big school after all," Lanny remarked insinuating that the witch was unwise before to not accept the house elf's help.

"I'll just go to the library then," Hermione suggested and edged towards the door.

"No!" Lanny cried. "Missy will go take a bath and relax." Hermione ground her teeth together in undisguised irritation. Her house elf put her hands on her hips and growled at her until the witch complied and went into the bathroom with a sigh.

"I'll have you know Lanny," Hermione called over her shoulder. "Reading relaxes me far more than a bath."

"Missy is not to go in the library," was the only reply she received from the creature before the door closed.

Hermione wondered exactly why she was not being permitted to enter the library. It could be a simple matter of the stubborn demanding elf not approving of her overindulgence of books, or it could be something her father had expressly forbidden. Either way, the teenage witch accepted that she was unlikely to get an answer so settled into a steaming, lemongrass scented water.

Her bath was rudely interrupted not ten minutes in by the angry little elf barging in. "What are these?" Lanny demanded to know holding up a pair of Hermione's new trousers.

"The reason I didn't want you to unpack my trunk," Hermione replied honestly.

"What did I tell missy about wearing pants? Why would missy go and get them?"

"Lanny, while I realize that you told me that proper young witches do not wear such garments, I do not accept that. Furthermore, I remind you that I was not raised as a proper pureblood witch and am unused to such outlandish customs. I will agree not to wear those to any formal or semi-formal event but I am keeping them," Hermione expressed firmly.

"Lanny should take these and destroy them," the house elf grumbled.

"Oh, but if you did that Madame Malkin would be most displeased, Lanny."

"Lanny is pleased that if missy insists upon having these she at least had them made by a proper seamstress. Miss also did have a beautiful gown made up for the New Year's Eve Gala."

"I figured it would be appropriate," Hermione stated. "Now, do you mind? I would like to return to my bath."

"Yes, of course. Lanny put books next to missy's bed so she can read when she is done. Dinner is being at seven o'clock."

"Thank you Lanny." Despite her stern disposition the elf was quite considerate. However, after taking care of generations of Black and Malfoy witches she was rather biased to anything she deemed to be improper.

It would be quite a while before dinner. Before she had departed Hogwarts, Professor Snape had confiscated her wand as she still was not trusted with it. Hermione didn't blame Voldemort or the others for being wary of her with a wand. If she did have access to it she would probably use it to hex them. So while she didn't know exactly what time it was, she knew the Hogwarts Express was still a fair distance from King's Cross station.

Undecided between taking a walk in the garden or passing the time by reading Hermione decided upon both. Grabbing Narcissa's copy of _The Great Gatsby_ by Scott Fitzgerald she headed downstairs and outside. Light snow covered the garden pathways and frost had killed off the summer blooms leaving the garden full of plants resilient to the cold weather. Hermione found a bench to sit on and wrapped her cloak around her for warmth as she become entranced in the novel.

"Proklyani vse ved'ma," a thickly accented voice growled from nearby her some time later. "What are you doing out here in the freezing without casting a warming charm?" It was the most words Dolohov had ever spoken to her and she looked up briefly to see the wizard casting said charms over her. Instantly the cold abated and she found herself quite comfortable.

"Thank you," She said.

The gesture no matter how baffling deserved her gratitude. Part of her was still surprised by his being around and small expressions of kindness towards her because her mind still brought her back to the night in the department of mysterious, seeing his purple flames flying towards her.

"You need to get inside. You'll get sick staying out here much longer," the wizard replied.

"I suppose you're right," she agreed and rose to stand.

"I'll walk with you," he breathed softly. Hermione didn't see the need to refuse him so she nodded. Silently they walked side by side through the gardens and back into the drawing room. Dolohov dispersed immediately but Hermione sat down on the sofa to look out at the beautiful winter scene.

"Lanny, would you please bring me some hot tea?" She called out knowing the elf would hear her request without being present. Minutes later a tea tray appeared on the coffee table before her holding a tea kettle, sugar tray, cream canister and a cup. Hermione poured herself the tea and added 1 cube of sugar with a dash of cream and stirred twice.

Draco popped into the room after her second cup of tea and Hermione realized just how long she had been sitting outside. "Hey," He greeted seeing her sitting there.

"Hi. Sorry about the train ride, I was redirected before I left the castle," Hermione replied.

"Its fine, Snape sent somebody to tell me not to expect you. You didn't miss much anyway."

"Oh? Did you happen to see Harry and Ron?"

"I tried not to," Draco sneered. "But yes, I did. They were none too happy to see you missing either, figured they could sit with you on the train if they couldn't in school."

"My father seems to think that there may have been plans for the order to redirect me."

"You mean kidnap?"

"No I meant redirect. If you recall I was quite happy living my life as muggleborn Hermione Granger when I was kidnapped and brought here. The order would see it as saving me."

"Do you want them to save you?" he questioned.

"I'm not sure," she confessed. "I don't want to be in the situation I am, but I am. If I would go back to the order I would be treated differently at best and a disgrace at worse, like I am in school. At least here I'm respected for my status even if I'm not trusted."

"You won't be treated like a prisoner here forever. You'll eventually earn their trust and be given you're wand," Draco told her.

"That scares me more than anything. Earning my father's trust will mean I've betrayed my friends."

"It isn't all black and white, Hermione. Sometimes there are shades of grey."

Dinner was a simple affair. While the other house guests, Dolohov, Bellatrix and her husband Rodolphus, as well as Thorfinn Rowle were present it wasn't a formal occasion. There was no need to change for dinner, Draco wore his school uniform and the rest of the assembled were in simple day robes. There was no five course meal instead a simple assortment of side dishes with a pot roast was served.

"How was school, Draco?" Lucius asked his son quietly. He had been broken out of the prison after their return to Hogwarts and was hiding out inside the manor like the other escaped inmates.

"Fine, father. I'm second in our class, only topped by Hermione," the blond replied.

"I would expect nothing less of my daughter," interjected the dark lord with a bone-chilling laugh. "Draco I would like to discuss with you your education and future plans. Would you be able to stop by my study in the morning?"

Draco paled and gulped. "I would be honored my lord," he choked out.

"Excellent, I look forward to our discussion. Hermione, I am retiring for the evening, please come see me when you have finished."

"Yes father," Hermione said. "I shan't be long."

"See that you are not," her father hissed and exited the dining room in the direction of hi study. Hermione had observed that he seemed to reside in that room completely, he hardly ate anything and she assumed he never slept either. Must have something to do with being resurrected from death.

Clearing her plate and politely declining dessert the witch rose from the table. "Please excuse me," she said to the Malfoy's and Thorfinn. Dolohov and the others had left following their lord.

"Of course," Narcissa smiled. "Have a good night dear." There was an edge to her voice that wasn't usually present and Hermione noticed the witch shoot a glare at her husband and a sympathetic look at Draco. Assuming that it had something to do with private family matters she shrugged it off and quickly left the room heading towards the study.

Rowle was once again standing outside as he almost always was when she arrived. Looking up at him she asked him a question that had been bothering her since summer. "Not to be rude or anything but why are you always standing outside this door when I am due to meet my father?"

"Somebody has to open the door for you Princess," The tall, bulky, Viking-like wizard replied with a smirk.

"For Merlin's sake," Hermione grumbled. "I'm perfectly capable of opening the door for myself."

"Not unless you are wearing one of these on your arm you're not," Rowle informed showing his dark mark. "Warded against anyone unmarked."

"Oh," she said flushing. "That is impressive warding. Well, have at it then, Rowle." He opened the door and Hermione walked through.

To her surprise, and her concern, she was not alone with her father. Sitting in one of the chairs across from the desk dwelled Antonin Dolohov, a serious yet unreadable expression on his handsome face. Hermione immediately berated herself for the traitorous thought, when did she start thinking the face in her nightmares was handsome?

"Daughter," Voldemort called out. "Have a seat." Summoning up her Gryffindor courage she shuffled over to the other chair, next to Dolohov, smoothed her skirt down and sat. "There are several matters we need to discuss. But first, I've heard your return to school wasn't wat you expected."

"No father, it was not. However, I did my best to take things in stride and make the best out of the situation I was dealt," Hermione answered.

"Indeed, an admirable ability," her father said. "I'm proud of your tenacity and resilience. You did take the chance to build alliances with those who will help you go far one day." Hermione was quiet not sure if she should thank him for his praise.

"I only did what you said I should father," she eventually spoke.

"Naturally. I had hoped you would be of some use to me in regards to Harry Potter, but alas, by no fault of your own that is not to be." Hermione thought that she wouldn't give him information on Harry even if he tortured her to the point of insanity, but wisely held her tongue.

"My Lord, I think that we already knew that Dumbledore would never allow that to happen," Dolohov said. Hermione was stunned once again by this wizard. He was now defending her.

"I expected that he would limit my access to details about the order but I didn't think he would deem me so untrustworthy that he would take measures to keep me as far away from Harry as possible," Hermione explained. "That first night in school Dumbledore said something and acted in a way that bothered me."

"Pray continue," her father ordered.

"He attempted to look into my mind and when I blocked him he became furious. He said that he had to know what I knew, and refused to believe me that I knew nothing other than that I was your daughter. I believed then that he knew about my identity all along, Now, I think he was more involved in my kidnapping."

"Well, I see you lay your suspicions on the same people as me, daughter. Of course, I can't know for sure, only your mother would." Hermione wondered what happened to her birth mother after she was taken. She knew she hadn't been killed but neither was she around now.

"My mother," she echoed.

"You're mother hasn't been able to speak since that night. She is a resident in the Spell-damage ward in St. Mungo's," Voldemort explained. "At least until I can retrieve her."

"I'm sorry that she was injured so severely that I've lost the opportunity to know her," Hermione commented.

"I will fix her," her father vowed. "However until I do there is the matter of your safekeeping."

"I feel that I am safe at school father. Dumbledore may not trust me but as long as I keep to myself he leaves me alone."

"None-the-less I want insurances. Which is why I have given my promise of your hand in marriage to Antonin," Voldemort stated. Hermione's eyes widened in horror. "You will be married this summer."

"You can't possibly be serious," she blurted out. The wizard next to her stiffened in his chair as though her words cut him deeply, and her father's expression became enraged.

"I assure you daughter that I am indeed most serious. You will be married in six months' time and if you don't want me to move up that deadline you will be silent and obedient. Antonin, take you bride to be out of my sight."

"Yes my lord," Dolohov replied rising to his feet. Holding out his hand to her as a gentleman would he waited for her to take it. One glance at her father's furious features had her accepting the other dark wizard's hand. He helped her to her feet and swiftly led her from the room. "Rowle," the Russian nodded at the guard outside the door.

"Dolohov," came the gruff reply. "I hear congratulations are in order, princess." Hermione ignored the annoying blond and allowed Dolohov to walk her upstairs. Neither one of them spoke but to Hermione's surprise he did not lead her back to her room instead to the library.

When he had poured himself two fingers Ogden's finest and her a glass of sweet elf-made wine he sat down across from her.

"I know I'm not your choice, Miss. Riddle, but I had hoped we could find some way to get along. Arranged marriages are not uncommon in our society," he eventually spoke.

"You cursed me," Hermione said. She was aware she changed the subject but in her mind marrying the man who had nearly killed her was insanity. She had never encountered a wizard so hell-bent on seeking revenge and then since her arrival here he hadn't once made mention of it. Hermione was going to get answers. Dolohov breathed in sharply and knocked back his whiskey. "That night in the department of mysteries, you cursed me with the intent to kill, I could see it in your eyes. Now you want to marry me."

"You don't know anything about that night," He sighed.

"Then explain it to me Dolohov. Because I can't fathom why you want me dead one day and me as your wife another. It's mental."

"I didn't want to curse you," he announced.

"Didn't seem that way at the time," Hermione scoffed.

"Chert voz'mi, zhenshchina!" he cursed in his native tongue. "Would you be quiet and let me explain?" His annoyance was made plain when his eyes met hers.

"Fine, I'll listen," Hermione said placated.

"As I said I didn't want to curse you. In fact, while I found it irritating and humiliating, I was impressed by your ability to duel me, to silence me. I was ordered to curse you, and while you were surrounded by all of your little friends I had to make it look real."

"I still have nightmares," Hermione said. "I see you in them."

"I am sorry for that kotenok," He expressed genuinely. "I don't disobey my lord's commands."

"My father ordered you to curse me?"

"Your father suspected from the moment of his return that you were his daughter. He knew his wife had been attacked and his daughter taken from her cradle and given to muggles. Muggleborn witches and wizards are magically weaker than those raised around magic, like it or not it's true. Yet you defied that rule, you were top of your class, brilliant, powerful and you looked somewhat like your mother."

"I'm failing to see how this leads him to wanting me cursed," Hermione growled.

The wizard groaned in exasperation. "My lord suspected you may be his child but he had no proof. My curse is meant to kill, there are not many who could survive it. Somebody with innate power from two strong magical lines would. Therefore, I was ordered to curse you. If you died he had his answers and one problem out of his way."

"But I lived," Hermione muttered.

"You survived it. Meaning his suspicions were correct and you were more than likely his missing daughter," Dolohov confirmed. "That is when he put the plan in motion to bring you here."

"You're not telling me everything," the witch insisted sipping her wine. She was of age and legally could drink but felt weird doing so knowing she was still in school.

"You are incredibly perceptive. I'm not sure you're ready to hear everything," Antonin replied.

"Tell me," Hermione commanded.

"I was betrothed to you when you were born," he admitted. "This marriage arrangement isn't exactly new though I thought that things would change."

"Why was I betrothed so young?"

"It's customary. I told you arranged marriages are common. I was a loyal and trusted supporter of your father and had been known by your mother in school. She was in her seventh year in my first, and she helped me study charms since I showed an advanced interest in the subject."

"You've always been a part of my life then?"

"I would have been had you not been kidnapped. You would have grown up knowing me and then when the time came for marriage you would hopefully have some feelings for me. It's my deepest regret that I wasn't fast enough."

"What do you mean?"

"I was the one who found your mother at dawn the next morning. I was the one who found your cradle empty and your mother bleeding out on the floor. I brought her to St. Mungo's but she never fully recovered. I looked for you but you had vanished without a trace. Instead I chased down one of the men responsible for that night and killed him, landing myself in Azkaban."

"This is too much," Hermione choked back tears. "It's almost unbelievable."

"I know, but I wouldn't lie to you kotenok," He said.

"Well, if we are supposed to be married then I suppose you should start calling me Hermione."

"Only if you call me Antonin, witch. That and you promise to try and look past the night I cursed you and get to know me," the wizard insisted.

"I'll try. It will take some getting used to but I will try," she promised.

"I can accept that," The dark haired man replied.

"Antonin, do you suppose that we can leave the getting to know each other until tomorrow? It has been a long day," Hermione asked. Left unspoken was the fact that she needed to be alone to wrap her head around the idea of being married at seventeen, yet alone to a dark wizard. However, she saw that her future husband was insightful and understood that she needed time.

"Of course Hermione," he replied. "Allow me to escort you to you room?" Hermione allowed this and once they reached the closed door leading to her personal chamber he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

"Goodnight Antonin," Hermione breathed slightly feeling her cheeks flush.

"Goodnight Hermione," he bided with a smirk seeing her blush before he turned and departed down the hallway.

* * *

Translations:

Proklyataya ved'ma – Curse it all witch

Chert voz'mi, zhenshchina – Damn it, impossible woman

Kotenok – Kitten


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Here with an update for you all. Thanks for all the reviews. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

Draco crept into her room in the middle of the night. Hermione was still awake, staring out the window into the dark night when she heard the door open.

"What are you doing here at this hour?" She demanded.

"I know it's improper," Draco replied. "But I need to talk to you. Your father wishes to see me directly following breakfast and I'm afraid."

Hermione's eyes softened and she gestured to the empty chair near the window. Hermione knew that Draco wasn't scared of Voldemort himself rather how quickly he was to anger and his tendency to punish first and ask questions later. "Well, if it is any consolation, you're meeting tomorrow will likely go better than mine did."

Draco noticed then the red streaks staining her cheeks from crying. "What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it Draco," Hermione said. "You came here to talk to me."

"Yes, but that was before I found you crying in here," He persisted.

"I'm to be married this summer," Hermione told him. "That is what my father wished to speak to me about."

"Who has he promised you to?" Draco, having been raised in a traditional family, knew how pureblood marriages worked. They were not often love matches. He himself had been betrothed since childhood to Pansy Parkinson. Merlin knew there was no love to be found there.

"Antonin Dolohov," She whimpered.

"Fuck," Draco hissed. He had seen the scar that the ill-tempered Russian had left her with. He had heard the nightmares she had over the summer. He couldn't believe that she was being forced to marry the crazed Azkaban escapee.

"It's not so bad," Hermione muttered. "He told me that he never wanted to curse me, but had been ordered to. It seems my fear of him was displaced and that it is my father I should be worried about."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Apparently the most convenient way for him to find out if I could possibly be related was to see if I could survive an agonizing and fatal curse. If I had died there was no way we could be related and he had one less mudblood to deal with." Draco didn't know what to say to Hermione's explanation.

"Not exactly the move a loving father would make," He eventually commented.

"He doesn't love me, I'm not delusional," Hermione scoffed. "I've been so confused since I've been brought here by the way Antonin was acting towards me. Even if I was his lord's daughter and immune to harm from his wand I expected that the man who cursed me to despise me. Instead he prevented me from tripping, danced with me at the ball, never spoke a cruel word at all."

"That does seem confusing," Draco agreed. "Are you sure he is telling you the truth?"

"I can't be certain," Hermione replied. "Though I do believe him. Once he explained it, the curse first and capture later method does sound like something my father would do."

"Yeah," her friend spat. "One of the many reasons I'm worried about facing him tomorrow. Without having anything productive to tell him…"

"I suppose that the bright side in all of this is that I have a way to help your mum," Hermione reassured. She knew that Draco worried less for himself than he did for her.

"How is that?" He asked glancing up. "I thought you had to come up with a way to convince your father mother was somehow useful to him."

"It's simple really," Hermione smiled brightly. "I'm like a surrogate daughter to her, and with my muggle mum obliviated and my birth mum indisposed, I need a motherly figure to help me plan my wedding."

"That is actually a brilliant idea." He remarked thoughtfully. "Mother is quite good at that stuff, shopping, organizing, and hosting parties. However, are you certain my lord will care that you look up to her? He could easily have another witch, such as Bellatrix get you ready."

"Oh, but Bellatrix surly has far more pressing responsibilities to him, and Narcissa has more experience than her sister as she has always been a socialite."

"Wicked. Sometimes you scare me with how clever you are. Should have been a Slytherin."

"No I should not have been," Hermione sniffed. "I may be sly but never forget that I am a lioness and I will roar when I need to."

"Yeah, there is that right foul temper of yours. Never mind, I take it back you wouldn't make a very good Slytherin after all. Much too rash and brazen," Draco taunted playfully.

In the end, neither one of them went to sleep that night. They stayed up talking until the sun began its creeping climb up the horizon illuminated the courtyard Hermione's window overlooked. "Draco you should probably at least try and get some rest before your meeting," Hermione said after yawning.

"Yeah," the platinum blond agreed. "Thanks for listening to me tonight."

"You've been a huge support to me these past months Draco, it is the least I can do."

"It's a strange concept that you freely offer your help. All of my other friends, all Slytherin's I might add, wouldn't unless they got something in return."

"That's horrible," Hermione gasped in outrage. "Don't they care about you and what you're going through?"

"They do care," Draco reassured. "However it isn't in their nature to do something unless it also benefits them in some way."

"That isn't true friendship," Hermione insisted. "Friends do whatever they can to support those they care about, even at great personal risk to themselves."

"I don't expect you to understand Hermione, it's a personality thing. You're definition of friendship is different than mine. I should go, before you work yourself into a tizzy," he replied and quickly exited the room leaving behind a stunned Hermione.

Unbeknownst to both young wizard and witch a figure stood wrapped in shadows, obscured from view down the hallway, expression darkening as his mind made assumptions. When Draco disappeared down the hall back to the family wing of the manor, Antonin Dolohov stepped away from his doorway and stalked to that of his soon to be bride's. Without knocking he burst through the door and slammed it closed behind him. Hermione jumped from where she had been climbing into her undisturbed bed sheets.

"Antonin," She yelped holding a hand to her racing heart. "What is it?" The dark haired wizard said nothing as he crossed the room and loomed over the bed in a dominant and foreboding stance.

"Do you think to put cuckold horns on me already?" He spat quietly.

"What? I don't know what you're talking about? Why are you here?"

"Don't play coy with me malyshka. I saw that boy leaving with my own eyes."

"Draco?" Hermione asked, realization dawning on her like a tidal wave. "He just needed to talk to me."

"It is not proper for a young witch to allow wizards into her bedchamber in the middle of the night!" Antonin hissed coolly. "It's even more unseemly when the witch is betrothed to another. I will not be made a fool of."

"Antonin," Hermione whispered, tears pooling in her eyes. "Nothing happened. I swear we were only talking. He sat in that chair the whole time."

"I don't care!" He roared. "My future wife allowed a man who is not me into her quarters. I would be within my rights to duel him to the death for daring to dishonor you."

"Why won't you believe me?" She cried openly now. "You're not even giving me a chance to explain. Why can't you see that this isn't easy for me, for any of us?" Antonin's anger waned when her tears fell and he sat down on the corner of her mattress. "I do believe you that nothing happened," he intoned. "I am trying to press upon you the seriousness of how this looks to everybody else. Had anyone other than me witnessed Malfoy leaving here you would be ruined." He used his thumb to wipe her cheek dry. "You need to know that this is unacceptable."

"Okay," Hermione sighed understanding why he was rightfully upset. "I won't allow it to happen again. However you didn't need to make your point by barging into my room. You could have waited until we talked tomorrow." She didn't like the side of him he had just seen. He looked as he had before casting that horrible curse on her. Furthermore, his reaction was borderline violent. Antonin didn't reply for several long heartbeats.

"I don't have the best temper," he admitted. "You would have learned that sooner or later."

"You seemed angry enough to curse me again," Hermione whispered. "I thought you might for a moment."

"Dorogoy, I would never raise a hand nor a wand to you in violence," He said with conviction. Hermione glanced in to his deep borboun hued eyes and knew he was telling the truth. However, she wasn't letting him off the hook."

"Forgive me, I believe that you wouldn't mean to hurt me but I don't have much to go on to trust that you wouldn't lose control and do so accidentially," She told him. It was partially true. There were several documented domestic violence cases where the violence was isolated from a moment of uncontrollable rage.

"I realize that my previous actions don't stand to it, but I abhor violence against women. I already told you I never wanted to curse you and my doing so went against every moral fibre I possess." Hermione remained quiet waiting for him to go on.

"I carry a lot of anger inside of me and i'm quick to lash out but I don't condone violence against those weaker than me. My mother was abused by her muggle parents before my father took her away. I've seen the scars they left her with. I would never do that. I'll prove to you one day that I'll never hurt you."

"Words can be as dangerous a weapon as anything else," Hermione warned him. "Physical violence is not the only form of abuse." She didn't relish marrying a man who loathed hurting women but was quick to temper and lash out by screwing with her self esteem.

"I'm not perfect, kotenok," he said. "You got to give me a chance to learn."

"I know. I will give you that chance. Hopefully you now know that rushing in here in anger and refusing to hear me scared me. Your expression brought up memories I don't enjoy reliving." She didn't say that this encounter would leave her with nightmares. She didn't have to.

"I'll have an elf bring you some dreamless sleep," Antonin said. "I'm sorry I frightened you, it can't be easy to be around me after everything."

"Thank you," the witch nodded. "I also apologize. I shouldn't have let Draco in. I never intended to anger you, though I understand why seeing him leave would do so."

"Goodnight dorogoy," The wizard breathed and kissed her forehead and rose from the bed. "You haven't slept at all yet, you really should try to now." He was gone before Hermione could respond, her door closed lightly. Soft early sunlight was now streaming in through her window bespeaking the hour. A soft pop sounded from next to her bed and the witch turned her head to see a small vial sitting on her bedside stand.

Her fingers reached out towards it grasping the cool glass and pulling up the cork stopper. Lifting it to her lips she swallowed down a sip of the green sludge. Immediately the urge for her to close her eyelids and lay her head down on the pillow overtook her. Limbs feeling weighted down she was unable to fight the exhaustion, so she didn't. She was asleep before she could roll onto her side, her mind a blank, black abyss.

Draco Malfoy laid motionless on the marble floor of the Manor's foray. His meeting with the dark lord had not gone well. His lord was displeased that there has been no progress on his mission to kill Albus Dumbledore. Moreover, it was clear that Hermione shared her suspicions with him because the dark lord was more adamant than ever that the headmaster had to go. In punishment the dark lord had raised his wand and crucioed Draco for what felt like hour. In reality it was only minutes, Draco knew that nobody would last an hour beneath the dark lord's curse, but it was enough to leave him slightly conscious and paralyzed. He was just with it enough to be aware of his surroundings, to feel his muscles spasm with the aftershocks of the cruciatus curse and to linger in agony.

The wizard heard the footsteps before he could place that somebody was there. He had been dragged from the study to where he now laid and left to fend for himself. Usually nobody approached their fallen brethren after a punishment. Yet somebody now crouched down by his side.

"Here boy," The Russian lilt belonging to Dolohov commanded lifting something to his lips. "Drink up." Draco drank the vile substance knowing from both taste and texture that it was a pain relieving potion. The ingredients did their job and worked their magic on his body easing his pain and freeing him to move to an upright, seated position.

"Thanks," he muttered to the older death eater.

"Don't thank me yet boy," Dolohov said. "I have half a mind to crucio you myself."

"Why? What have I ever done against you?"

"You spent the night in my witch's bedroom. I saw you leaving at dawn myself," The Russian wizard muttered a threatening expression on his face. Draco had seen what he was capable of when angry and if this is how he was now, hours after the fact, there was no saying how furious he was in the first place.

"Please tell me you didn't hurt her. Nothing happened, I swear it. I didn't even know she was to be yours until after I got there."

"Of course I didn't hurt her. Don't worry, she already told me you two only talked through the night. I explained to her how inappropriate it was and she understands what is at risk should it happen again."

"It won't happen again," Draco swore, "I have no wish to see my friend dishonored."

"Good. I'm glad we are on the same page," Dolohov responded. He reached out and hand and pulled Draco up from the ground. "What the hell where you even doing there in the middle of the night in the first place?"

"I err, Hermione is helping me with something and I needed to talk to her. Since I didn't have an opportunity to after dinner… It wasn't something that could wait until morning."

"You should know, having been raised in our traditions Draco, that betrothed or not your entering her bedchamber at night risked ruining her reputation. It's improper for any wizard to enter an unwed witch's room. Whatever you needed could have waited until the morning."

"Don't say anything, please." Draco requested. "I'm not asking for myself, not that I want to face my mother's ire, but revealing this at all puts Hermione at risk. I care about her too much to want to see her hurt by this."

"You should have thought about that in the first place boy," Dolohov muttered. "As it happens I have no plans on taking this beyond the three of us."

"Good. Where is Hermione anyway? It's got to be past noon."

"I would imagine that she is sleeping. It was obvious that she didn't get any last night as her bedsheets hadn't been slept in when I confronted her."

"She is probably having a nightmare right now," Draco mumbled.

"Dreamless sleep," Dolohov informed. "She was overtired and distressed and I know I scared her so I took measures to make sure she got some peaceful rest. She'll wake when she's ready."

Draco looked at the older wizard with a mix of confusion and disbelief. He was so used to the brutal ways of his fellow brothers that seeing any of them act with kindness towards anybody was doing a number on his mind. Thinking better of saying anything he inclined his head and climbed the stairs to reach his own bedroom. His own sleepless night and the remnants of torture draining him of all strength and energy. It was time for him to recharge.

* * *

It was dark when Hermione awoke. Emitting a low groan as she stretched her arms above her head she waited for her mind to catch up to her body. She regretted that decision almost as soon as she made it.

"Missy is naughty," squeaked a serious, scolding elf from the foot of her bed. Hermione shot straight up. "Sleeping is for the nighttime not the daytime. Missy took potion in morning and slept all day."

"Lanny, I don't care about your opinions right now," Hermione rasped her throat dry. The house elf harrumphed and summoned a glass of water for the witch. Hermione wasted no time drinking the soothing liquid. "Thank you," She said to the elf when the glass was empty.

"Missy must get up now. It is time for dinner."

"I'm not hungry," Hermione replied. "I'd like to take a long hot shower."

"Missy will go to dinner. No time for bathing, missy is late already and master's boss very unhappy." Hermione had learned overtime that master's boss mean her father. To the house elf who served Lord Malfoy, it was confusing to see their master serving somebody else. Therefore they didn't see the dark lord as a normal guest but as someone who lived in the house and told their master what to do.

"My father is angry?" She asked Lanny.

"Oh yes," The elf replied. "He had plans to speak with missy this afternoon and was most unhappy when told she was sleeping still. He demanded missy be at dinner."

"Awesome," the witch sighed. "In that case it seems I don't have a choice." She rose from the bed. Lanny snapped her fingers and magically divested Hermione of her night clothes while simultaneously replacing them with evening robes and a low pair of matching, midnight blue, heels. Another snap of the creature's fingers and Hermione's hair was braided down her back.

"Missy must go now. Dinner starts in two minutes," Lanny informed. "No time for dawdling." Hermione was pushed out of her bedroom door and had no other choice but to walk down to the dining room.

"You are very nearly late daughter," Voldemort hissed as she stepped through the doorway. The dining table was full, The Malfoy's, their house guests, as well as several other members from the inner circle all present.

"I apologize for keeping you waiting," she retorted.

"Well, come sit down," Her father commanded. The only available seat at the long table was next to Antonin and the snakelike wizard himself. She forced herself to move her feet. As she reached the table Antonin stood to pull out her chair and every other wizard followed suit to show respect. "We are celebrating tonight daughter."

"Celebrating what?"

"You're engagement announcement," her father said slyly.

"Oh," Hermione said. "That."

"Yes that. What else could you possibly think we would be celebrating?" Voldemort asked not wanting a response. "You are, of course, the guest of honor." It pained Hermione not to be able to say what she thought of that, however she knew if she talked back to him in front of his death eaters he wouldn't hesitate to punish her publicly. As of yet he hadn't raised his wand against her and when she irritated or pissed him off his reaction was to banish her.

"Well," the witch cautiously replied. "I wasn't aware we were celebrating or I certainly wouldn't have been late to my own party."

"I explained to our lord why you were still in bed so late in the day, kotenok," Antonin spoke quietly from next to her. Hermione looked up at him with a brief glance of terror in her chocolate eyes. "That we were up talking all night and that you were feeling under the weather as well," he continued. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank you Antonin," Hermione smiled as she replied. "I enjoyed getting to know you better last night, but should not have ignored my need for rest." She continued the ruse, grateful that her betrothed wasn't still so annoyed that he would tell her father. Risking a quick look at Draco she saw the deep circles underneath his eyes and noticed the twitch every second or two in his chair.

"Father, Hermione broached. "I am perplexed by how quickly this wedding will arrive. With my studies in school I couldn't possibly have enough time to plan it all in time. Most young brides have the assistance of their mothers, but mine isn't able to help at the moment."

"Six months is plenty of time to plan a wedding daughter," Voldemort stated. "I'm sure we can find somebody more than willing to do most of the organizing for you."

"That is what I was trying to mention, I already have somebody in mind," Hermione pressed on. Her statement actually seemed to surprise the dark lord, she saw the brief expression cross his features before he schooled his face back into its mask of indifference.

"Who would that be daughter?"

"Well, you see, Mrs. Malfoy has taken such great care of me since I've arrived. She has really taken me under her wing and been a great comfort to me. Over our regular tea chats I've learned that part of her role as lady of the manor is planning and hosting formal gatherings. I'm sure she wouldn't mind planning my wedding, would you Narcissa?"

"I would be honored my dear," The aristocratic blonde and black haired witch replied. "It would have to be quite the affair for the wedding of my lord's daughter."

"I suppose that Narcissa is quite good at playing her role as the socialite," Voldemort allowed. "She is perhaps the most appropriate candidate to plan a wedding befitting your status."

"I agree, I admire Narcissa very much," Hermione said honestly. "I look forward to learning from her." Hermione had never had an ambition to be a stay at home witch, but she did respect all of the work that the woman put into planning events. It was different from how she respected Mrs. Weasley who took pride in her home and her family, though Hermione learned that there were many different aspects to witches who were not career women and all of them put in a ton of effort.

"You have no desire to stay at home and plan parties Hermione," Voldemort replied insightfully. "Nor will you as you have a bigger purpose as my heir. However, learning Narcissa's skills would benefit you as well. I will allow her to help you plan your wedding and teach you how to properly run a pureblood house."

"Thank you father," Hermione replied withholding her glee from her voice. One point Hermione, zero points snake face. She took immense pleasure knowing she had manipulated her father into giving her what she wanted and making it seem as though it was his idea.

"My lord," a whiny voice called from slightly down the table. "I thought I was supposed to have to honor of getting your daughter ready for the wedding." It seemed to Hermione that one Bellatrix Lestrange not only knew about the consequences of Draco failing his mission but banked on it happening. Hermione wrinkled her nose in distaste for how cold the bitch could be to her own sister.

"Alas Bellatrix, It's not to be," Voldemort responded. "My daughter has pointed out that your sister prides herself on putting together elaborate parties. I see how true this is when I look at how diligent Narcissa is with hostessing our gatherings here as her honored guests."

"But my Lord," Bellatrix pouted.

"Enough Bellatrix!" Voldemort bellowed causing the crazy, wild haired witch to shrink in her seat. "I've just said Narcissa will plan the wedding and that is the end of this discussion. Frankly, I'm unsure you could accomplish half of what she does." The death eaters assembled looked from their lord, to the lady of the manor and finally to Bellatrix, the latter of whom was seething at the insult.

"I had not known that my father originally intended for you to be in charge of my wedding Madame Lestrange," Hermione forced herself to speak. "I am certain that your own experience would enrich my wedding and would welcome your opinions in tangent with Narcissa's vast talent and experience. With both of you it is certain to be epic." Single-handedly she managed to both appease the angry witch and throw salt in her wounds without making it obvious. However everyone knew that Hermione insinuated that Narcissa had more experience because she hadn't spent the last fifteen years in a jail cell.

Bellatrix too caught the reference and sneered openly at Hermione. "No, I think that if you prefer Narcissa's efforts that I shan't waste my time. Leave the planning to my sister." Too late Bellatrix realized her error. Wooden chair legs scraping against marble tile filled the room and Hermione looked in the direction of the noise. Voldemort stood at the head of the table having pushed his chair back enough to rise. He was brandishing his white hued yew wand in Bellatrix's direction.

"You dare to spit upon my daughter's gracious offer? You insinuate that my daughter is not worthy of your time Bellatrix?" He hissed at her. The witch opened and closed her mouth unsure of how to respond. "Crucio!" Red light shot from Voldemort's wand and hit Bellatrix square in the chest. Pressed between the table and her chair the witch remained in an upright position, but her writhing displayed that she was not at all unaffected by the curse.

He held the curse for minutes and Bellatrix lasted only one before screaming. Eventually satisfied with the piercing cries of agony from the afflicted witch he lifted the curse, leaving Bellatrix gasping for air.

"I'm sorry my lord," She whimpered. "I meant no offence."

"It is not me you should be apologizing to Bellatrix," Voldemort insisted.

"I apologize to you Miss. Riddle. Of course your wedding is not a waste of my time and I appreciate your offer to allow me to assist in planning it," Bellatrix spat in Hermione's direction. Hermione glared at her.

"I rescind that offer Madame Lestrange, though I accept your apology." While she might despise the woman to her very core Hermione didn't enjoy watching anyone suffer. So to avoid her father punishing her further she ensured she didn't disregard the insincere apology.

"Get out of my sight Bellatrix," Her father commanded. "Spend the rest of your evening alone thinking on how your words come across to others."

"Yes my lord," Bellatrix moaned before scrambling to her feet and shuffling from the room. Everybody sat stunned and still after her hasty exit, none of them quite sure what to say or do. Only Voldemort moved and that was to lower himself back into the chair.

"I propose a toast," Draco broke the silence which ensued the moments following Voldemort's outburst. "To My friend Hermione, who I'm sure will make a lovely bride and who may have met her match in Antonin." he raised his glass up high and waited as all of the other death eaters and their spouses did as well.

"To Hermione," they chorused and raised the elf made wine to their lips.

"Thank you, Draco," Hermione expressed after sipping from her own goblet. "Such a lovely toast."

"Indeed brother," Antonin echoed the sentiment. "Although I don't think it is she who has met her match but me who has found mine. My young bride to be is quite brilliant with her wand."

"She is my daughter," Voldemort intoned from his throne. "Naturally she possesses great talent and innate magical prowess."

"You honor me with your compliments gentlemen," Hermione said blushing. "I fear they are undeserved."

"But of course their praise of you is deserved my dear," Narcissa stated. "When offered a compliment a lady should always, always accept it graciously."

"She is right," Antonin agreed. "It may be considered rude otherwise."

"I was only trying to be humble," Hermione defended.

"You have no reason to be humble, Hermione. As my daughter you are above everyone else," Voldemort hissed. "When will you learn that these people are not your equals but your subjects?"

Hermione thought that she may never accept that. She had no desire to rule over people but only wanted to fit into the system. These customs were like something out of a historical romance book, outdated and slightly oppressive. Her muggle heritage was constantly at war with her attempts to blend into her present company. She wasn't ready to let go of her past yet if she wished to survive here she would have to sooner rather than later.

* * *

Translations:

Malyshka – Little Girl

Dorogoy - darling

Kotenok- Kitten


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: First of all, thank you for all of you who are reading and enjoying my story. I know it's been awhile since the last update but between stuff in my personal life and editing this time has been limited. I appreciate greatly all of the supportive reviews you guys send.**

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

Christmas in Malfoy manor was vastly different from her muggle family's traditions. Obviously, she expected that their tradition of watching Christmas movies all morning after opening gifts wouldn't be observed here. However, until Draco explained otherwise, she had anticipated it would be a family affair. It wasn't. In the mornings, the lord and lady preferred sleeping in so Draco had always opened his gifts alone on Christmas morning. Around noon the house congregated in the dining room for a large brunch before they once again went their separate ways to prepare for their annual Yule Ball.

Thanks to her friend's forewarning, Hermione wasn't surprised upon waking to see a stack of gifts beneath the window seat. What did give her pause was the fact that there were more wrapped boxes there than she had ever seen beneath a tree be it with her parents or at the burrow, and those were shared gifts. These were all for her. She smiled sadly knowing she would have to open them alone and ignored the pile to wrap herself in a fluffy robe and slippers.

The witch was startled by the knock that sounded on her bedroom door when she emerged from her bathroom. She opened the door leading to the hallways and was greeted by the sight of two wizards standing outside.

"Antonin, Draco," She gasped. "Forgive me but I was not expecting anybody this morning." In the week since she found out she was engaged to Antonin they had spent quite a bit of time getting to know one another. While she wouldn't say she was quite comfortable around him just yet she was beginning to see that he wasn't the man he first presented himself to be. She saw that he was truthful when he said he meant her no harm and that he wanted to make their relationship a friendly one.

"We know," Her betrothed's deep and accented voice replied as he smiled. "Draco thought you might appreciate the company and I agreed."

"Well, please come in. Happy Christmas to you both," Hermione replied wrapping her arms around each in turn. "I'll have Lanny bring us some blankets to sit on."

"Already done," Draco said. "She is sending up hot cocoa as well."

"You two really did have this all planned out didn't you," she commented as a pile of thick, fuzzy blankets and pillows appeared. Draco flicked his wand and spread out several of the warm quilts on the floor and arranged the pillows so they would be comfortable. Lanny appeared with the hot chocolate filled to the brim with marshmallows and peppermint.

"Lanny, would you please be so kind as to bring both my gifts and Antonin's here?" Draco inquired of the elf.

"Of course master Draco," Lanny replied and snapped her fingers. That was all it took for two stacks of presents to arrive in front of the wizards. Hermione grabbed a blanket and pulled it over her lap, it was huge and had more than enough space for another human beneath it. She saw Draco covered by his own throw and noticed that all the blankets were gone leaving her future husband without one. She lifted up the corner of the covers and beckoned for him to scoot closer to her so he could benefit from the warmth as well. He smiled gently at her.

"Merlin, I've never seen this many presents in my whole life," She stated in awe as Antonin levitated hers to be closer to her as well. "Why so much? I mean I'm only one person."

"Hermione, why do you think there are so many? First of all, you have presents from me and my family, then from your new friends at Hogwarts, your Gryffindor friends, even Potter and Weasley sent their tidings. Those had to be checked for anything dangerous to you or any of us before we could give them to you but they were all regular knick knacks," Draco informed her.

"Then there is my gift somewhere in there, and from your father and all of his followers of course," Antonin added.

"It's all just so much," Hermione sighed wistfully. "I don't even know where to begin."

"Start from the top and work your way down," Draco replied sarcastically.

"Why don't we each take turns opening one to keep it from being mass chaos in here," Antonin offered casually.

"Excellent idea," Hermione agreed readily. "Who should go first?"

"I am sure you are familiar with the saying ladies first," Draco laughed. Hermione stuck her tongue out at him but grabbed a box from her pile and carefully slid her finger under the wrapping to tear it neatly and reveal its contents.

It took almost an hour for them all to finish discovering what they had been given. Hermione smiled in contentment as she watched them open her gifts to them. For Draco she had supplied a leather bound journal, an eagle feather quill and emerald ink. She had the journal's twin and he could write in it when he needed a friend. She had given Antonin a large blank book which he could charmed locked to his magical signature. She hoped he would use it for recording his own charms. Before his incarceration, Antonin had worked as a curse breaker. Charms had been his favorited subject while at Hogwarts and he had a passion for creating his own. Of course, as a death eater his talents were often used for more sinister purposes and charms creations turned into the development of dark curses, his purple flames one among many. She had wanted to recognize his skill and provide a lighter meaning for him to rediscover his passion.

Hermione had received several books on the dark arts from several of her father's death eaters, hair accessories, and cosmetics, books on beauty charms and such from the girls in Slytherin house. The boys in Slytherin House gifted her a jeweled dagger and an honorary green and silver scarf. Narcissa had given her a certificate to a wizarding spa in France which they would use that summer, Draco a bracelet charmed to protect against jinxes and hexes. Antonin's present contained two items. The first her engagement ring seated in its velvet case. The other was one half of a set of two way mirrors, so that they could continue to develop their relationship when she returned to school. Neither of them believed for a moment that letters exchanged between the two would actually reach their intended recipient.

Her Gifts from her friends in Gryffindor house were both touching and familiar. As usual both Harry and Ron had bought a random book for her. Ginny has supplied a basket brimming full of Hermione's favorite candies and treats and the twins provided a box full of products from their shop. Neville had sent an enchanted rose and Mrs. Weasley had sewn her a crimson cloak with her first initial stitched in golden thread over her heart. It was beautiful and brought tears to her eyes because the Weasley matriarch had been insightful enough to realize that Hermione wouldn't be allowed to wear the standard sweater.

Hermione had one last box to open and then they would be done. Unwrapping it she found a long, narrow box which was empty when she opened it save for a brief note.

 _Daughter,_

 _Come see me in my study before brunch. I will provide you with your gift then._

It looked to be a wand box and Hermione's eyes widened at the thought of having her wand returned to her. "Thank you for making this morning special," She said to the wizards sitting nearby. "It would have saddened me to spend it alone."

After reciprocating they left her on her own until they would meet at brunch. Hermione took her time and neatly picked up and folded the blankets sticking them in a pile at the foot of her bed. The pillows were moved nearby and the empty mugs of hot cocoa placed back on the tray so that it would be easier for Lanny and the other house elves to pick up. Turning her attention to her stacks of unwrapped presents she went about organizing them. All of the non-dark books, beauty products candy and her two way mirror went into her school trunk. Her spa certificate was tucked away in her nightstand drawer, the other books stacked in a corner in her wardrobe.

Happy with having her room back in order she was ready to face the rest of the day. She hesitated between choosing a bath or a shower and decided she had time to relax yet and the bath won out. Lilac scented bubble bath and bath salts were added to the hot water giving the air a sweet yet subtle fragrance. She was a prune by the time she emerged, skin wrinkled and water logged but her muscles completely free of tension.

A charmed towel took care of her skin in any case and body lotion smoothed out any leftover wrinkles. Hermione wanted to wear her hair down but her worst enemy was frizz. Instead of calling Lanny to fix it she was determined to figure it out for herself. She couldn't very well use the beauty charms in the book from Astoria and Daphne without her wand. With any luck that would be changing soon, but until then she had to make due with a hair brush and the jars of hair creams on her bathroom sink. After four different gels and a great deal of time brushing through her tangles her tresses were free of frizz but full of her natural chestnut brown curls. She grinned at her reflection pleased with the turnout her efforts rewarded her with.

A dash of mascara and liner to the bottom of each eyelid and a coat of peach lipstick and she was more than presentable. As she entered her bedroom she was greeted by Lanny banishing the piles of blankets and scattered wrapping paper strewn about. The elf threw her hands on her hips and gave the witch a once over and to Hermione's immense pleasure had no criticism.

"You did this yourself, Missy?" The elf asked pointing to Hermione's hair.

"I did after spending some time working on it," Hermione beamed.

"Lanny is impressed," the elf stated. "Lanny was coming to help Missy get ready but sees now that she is not needed."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, Lanny," Hermione rushed. "I've never been to a Christmas brunch before. I've always spent all of Christmas day in my holiday pajamas. Would you help me choose a dress to fit the occasion?"

"Lanny will finds pretty robes for missy," the elf muttered appeased that Hermione was finding a use for her. As her personal elf while she stayed in the manor Lanny was supposed to work on getting her dressed as well as serving her needs. It pissed the little creature off when Hermione stubbornly did things for herself.

Taking one for the team, so to speak, Hermione watched as the elf disappeared inside the wardrobe on the hunt for the right outfit. When the elf emerged minutes later she was holding up two dresses, one a black lace, tea length, and vintage style the other a green, cotton blend, sleeveless garment with a matching traditional robes to wear over it.

While the latter was pretty it didn't appeal to Hermione so she shook her head and said, "I like the black one more, though do you think I could wear my new cloak to give it a pop of color?" Hermione pulled her gift from Molly Weasley off the hook and held it up. The elf paused a moment considering it.

"It's slightly casual because of the initial, missy, but the fabrics and length are acceptable. It should work fine, if you wear it unclasped and pair it with these. Hermione frowned when the elf pulled out a pair of black, four inch stiletto pumps. The price was high but she did really want to have something that reminded her of her friends and nurturing second family as she went through Christmas day without them around.

"Fine," She heaved a sigh. "Can you please charm those to not kill my feet?"

"I always do," Lanny said with a smirk. Hermione was not a fan of heels so the creature always gloated when she managed to manipulate the witch into wearing them. When the elf disapparated to give her privacy Hermione quickly stepped into the dress, stepped into the shoes and donned her Gryffindor cloak, leaving it unfastened and folded over the gold stitching to keep the dress from drowning in it. Glancing at her reflection in the mirror she wrinkled her nose at the heels but sighed and made her way downstairs to her father's study.

When she reached the door, she was shocked to see that Rowle was not standing beside it. There was nobody inside of it and the witch wasn't sure how she was going to get inside. She wasn't marked and for once in the entirety of knowing him, Hermione believed Rowle when he said that wards were keyed only to allow death eaters inside. She was not about to risk the shock, curse or whatever terrible fate awaited her by touching the door handle. Hoping for the best she tentatively raised her fist and rapped on the door. "Father," she called.

It took a moment but the door opened to emit her after a wave of Voldemort's wand. He didn't say anything as she sat down in the chair opposite his desk. She kept things civil and wished him a Happy Christmas which was not reciprocated. "I imagine you've gathered by the shape of box my note was in that you will be getting your wand returned to you," He spoke without any emotion.

"I would be lying if I said I hadn't hoped as much. However, I never presume to know what you're intentions are father," Hermione replied.

"Clever girl," he hissed. "Well worded answer, quite diplomatic. You are indeed having your wand returned to you. However there are some conditions." Hermione twisted the diamond ring adorning her finger as she fidgeted.

"I am sure that is reasonable as I'm sure I've not done overly much to prove myself trustworthy to you," she commented.

"You've proved yourself worthy enough," Voldemort stated. "However, I am no fool and still take precautions. The first stipulation is that you will wear this at all times." He slid a velvet jewelry box across the smooth top of his desk. Hermione lifted the lid and peered inside. It was a necklace with a silver chain and a single charm shaped as the dark mark. Hermione glanced up and met her Father's eyes.

"That charm has multiple uses. While it marks you as belonging to me it sets you above the rest of my followers who serve me. It also acts as a portkey allowing you to travel to Malfoy manor whenever you need to. It will heat up to alert you to when I require an audience with you. Finally, it works as means of implementing the second condition."

"What is the second condition?" Hermione asked as her wand was pulled from the pockets of his long, dark black robes and placed in front of her.

"Your use of the wand is monitored. It works much like the underage wizardry trace but records here when and how you use your wand. If you were to use it as a means of escaping or attacking anyone under my protection your wand will be confiscated immediately. If you use it appropriately you have nothing to worry about."

"Will the trace always remain on my wand?" The witch inquired.

"Until I deem it otherwise, yes. I trust you are intelligent enough not to try anything that would risk my ire with you."

"Of course Father. I accept your terms," she informed and closed her eyes briefly as she clasped the necklace around her neck. "Will this also permit me to cross through your wards when I have permission to?"

"Indeed it will. The days of needing Rowle to open the door for you have passed."

"Perfect," Hermione sighed. "I am glad to hear it. Thank you for returning my wand father."

"Don't disappoint me Hermione," he warned. "You may go, brunch should be beginning. I have other business to attend to and won't be eating."

"Okay," Hermione said. "I suppose I'll see you at the ball tonight then."

"Indeed you shall," was his only reply. Hermione left the room, walked down the dark corridor to the dining room. Narcissa was already seated at the table but everyone else had yet to arrive.

"Good morning my dear," Narcissa beamed at her rising to embrace Hermione. "Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas," Hermione repeated. "Thank you so much for your gift Narcissa. It sounds heavenly."

"No trouble dear, I look forward to any excuse to go to a spa retreat. Now I have the added benefit of bringing along my all but adopted daughter." Their conversation was cut short by the arrival of both Draco and Lucius who had no desire to hear the witches chattering on about spa dates.

"Here Darling," The long blond haired handed his wife a flute of mimosa. "May I offer you a glass as well Miss. Riddle?"

"Oh please call me Hermione Mr. Malfoy. Yes, I would love some," she responded. The elder Malfoy handed her a flute as well.

"I insist then that you refer to me as Lucius, Hermione. Let us dispense with the formalities. My wife thinks of you as the daughter she never had already and my son treats you as his kin. I might as well get on board."

"That is huge coming from you father," Draco muttered as he poured himself a glass of champagne sans the orange juice. She caught Narcissa's disapproving frown and his father's scowl.

"I don't know what you mean to suggest by the comment Draco," his mother stated. "You are not of age either so you will put the flute down right now." Her friend rolled his eyes in annoyance but didn't disobey her.

"I'll take it off your hands," remarked Antonin as he arrived. After a gulping half of the glass back he crossed over to her and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "You look lovely dorogoy."

Hermione took in his appearance as well. He had shortened his hair and trimmed down his beard. Dressed in traditional wizarding robes wizarding robes he was quite handsome. "Thank you," she blushed. "You clean up nicely yourself."

"Is this everyone?" Rowle asked after he flooed in and announced his season's greeting to all present.

"I believe we are still waiting on Bellatrix and Rodolphus, Thorfinn," Narcissa explained pleasantly. It was clear to Hermione and several others that the smile was forced. There was no love lost between the two siblings.

"We might be waiting awhile," Lucius remarked. "I passed by their door on my way down and neither of them seemed as though they were remotely close to being dressed."

"Well, I vote we don't wait for them and they can have whatever we leave them as leftovers," Rowle suggested. "I'm sure the will have worked up quite the appetite."

"Don't be crude Rowle," Hermione scolded. "I do agree that we shouldn't make the house elves work any harder to keep the food warm if we don't know when the others will arrive."

"I think you may be right," Narcissa agreed. "My sister isn't known for being on time unless she has been summoned by our lord. It doesn't make much sense to go hungry ourselves."

With her acknowledgment the large table became full of an elaborate spread of dishes for both breakfast and lunch. There were omelets, bacon, sausage, hash browns, pancakes flooded with maple syrup and butter, sandwiches, fruit and pasta salads, roasted vegetables, bite sized berry soufflés, as well as a variety of puddings and cakes. The bar held a selection of tea leaves and hot water, coffee, cream and sugar as well as the makings for mimosas and pumpkin juice. It reminded Hermione of what feasts at Hogwarts looked like.

"Well," Lucius commented as the last of the food appeared. "Bon appetite." Narcissa intercepted Hermione before Antonin could occupy the seat beside her.

"Do forgive me Antonin," the witch expressed, 'But I need to speak with our dear Hermione a moment."

"Of course," he replied politely though Hermione saw a hint of irritation cross his features. She placed her hand on his arm.

"I'll come sit by you in a moment," she told him with a small smile. He nodded at her and walked off to join Lucius, Thorfinn and Rabastan Lestrange.

"What are you planning on wearing to the ball tonight?"

"I fear I wasn't aware you hosted a Yule ball Narcissa," Hermione admitted. "I was prepared for the New Year's Eve gala but I confess I don't have anything suitable for tonight."

"I hadn't planned on holding a Yule Ball either my dear," Narcissa muttered. "It's not so much a ball but an annual gathering for the dark lord's followers. It has been many a year since we've had one."

"Oh," Hermione wondered aloud. "My father told me it was annual, so I thought it has always been hosted by you."

"Goodness, No!" The elder witch exclaimed. "It has been a tradition since Lucius's father graduated Hogwarts and has rotated between the heads of pureblood families ever since. However, after the end of the first war there was no need for them any longer."

"I see," Hermione stated. "My father's return and subsequent rise to power has brought a resurgence of the event."

"Exactly. Since this was sprung on you the other day I have taken the liberty to redesign an old dress of mine for you to wear."

"Thank you, that is very kind," the brunette responded. "I could have transfigured something in my wardrobe but I'm sure your designs would be better than my own." Hermione wasn't ungifted in the art of transfiguration but unlike her dorm mates in Gryffindor tower she never saw the need to bother with using it to change the color or cut of clothing. While she was sure she could manage to come up with something she recognized that she was no designer.

"You're welcome. I've had Lanny hang it in your closet. I've noticed that you and Antonin seem to be spending more time together."

"We're trying. I struggle with it for many reasons, not the least of which is the fact it's been arranged. However, we both agree that we want the relationship to be amicable. I well aware that wizarding bonds are unbreakable and if I'm going to have to spend the rest of my life with him…"

"I understand dear," Narcissa comforted. "Love can bloom out of friendship. My own marriage wasn't as warm as it is now in the beginning. You're taking the right steps in getting to know him before you tie the knot." Narcissa patted Hermione on the back and walked off to take the empty seat next to her husband.

Hermione rose to join her betrothed but was stopped when the wizard set a plate down in front of her. "I noticed Narcissa distracted you from making a plate, I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all Antonin," Hermione reassured. "I see you picked all my favorites." She gestured for him to take the place next to her.

"I've watched your preferences as meals so I'd have an idea of what you like," He explained with a shrug. "Are you alright kotenok? You looked upset when you were talking to Narcissa."

"I am well. We were discussing the party tonight," Hermione attempted to dismiss his worry. She failed.

"Talking about a party upsets you? I know that isn't all," he replied softly.

"I'm nervous about the event," Hermione explained. "It isn't what I thought it was going to be and I'm not looking forward to being a part of a revel for all of the death eaters."

"You most certainly will not be participating in any revels Hermione," Antonin barked. "I'll be by your side all night anyone who makes a rude comment or suggestive glance in your direction will answer to me. Now, what else is bothering you? Spit it out."

"You are too observant," Hermione pouted. "It's nothing Antonin really. We were just discussing our upcoming nuptials, nothing was shared that you don't already know. Narcissa reassured me that many arranged marriages can blossom into something more."

"I hope she's right," Antonin whispered. "I want her to be right."

"So do I," Hermione said. "I want our marriage to start with friendship and grow from there. I don't want to hate or fear you and bring that into our marriage."

"However, it isn't easy to overlook our differences," Antonin frowned. Hermione knew her words had hurt him even though she didn't mean for them to.

"I'm sorry, but yes. It isn't just you, it is everybody and everything here. Please be patient with me, I am trying to see you beneath the bias. I've already developed a fondness."

"Take as long as you need dorogoy," Antonin caressed her hand. "I regret that we couldn't have known each other much sooner and avoid this stage but things are as they are. I understand you need time." Hermione squeezed his hand in hers and held it on her lap. The couple spent the rest of brunch in a comfortable manner with Hermione telling him about Christmas with the Granger's.


End file.
